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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24508621">To Be Loving And Grateful</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/bluehairedbaby'>bluehairedbaby (orphan_account)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nothing Wrong With Loving Who You Are [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Harry, Coming Out, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, FTM transition, Fluff, Headaches &amp; Migraines, M/M, Past Suicide Attempt, Smut, Surgery, Top Louis, Trans Harry Styles, Trans Male Harry Styles, top surgery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:49:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,207</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24508621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/bluehairedbaby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a year, One Direction is finally preparing to release their third album. Finally out of the closet, Harry begins to look into moving further in his transition.</p><p>This is the sequel to "Nothing Wrong With Loving Who You Are," if you haven't read that yet, I'd recommend you read it first, or else things won't make much sense.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nothing Wrong With Loving Who You Are [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761742</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry leaned over the bathroom sink, running a thumb over his chin, feeling the soft prickles tickling the pad of his thumb. “Do you have a razor?” He asked, glancing over in Louis’ direction. He pursed his lips, his finger brushing over the tiny hairs beginning to grow there, thin and fair. “Why?” Louis asked, brushing a comb through his quiff. “I think I’m growing a beard,” Harry said, smiling a bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Louis said, cracking a grin as he walked over. He leaned in, inspecting Harry’s chin. “Oh, yeah,” he said in awe, and Harry grinned. “Definitely some stubble going on there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If it were anybody else, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. Facial hair was not something to get all excited over usually. However, after years of hormone treatment, Harry had been itching to finally see something grow there, even the patchiest stubble ever. He’d begun to wonder if he’d ever get to, or if he’d just have to resort to being clean shaven his entire life. Thankfully, it would appear that he didn’t have to wait anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Finally,” he sighed, peering into the mirror again. “Been wanting to use a razor for something other than down there,” he said cheekily, making Louis shake his head as he chuckled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you want to shave it though?” Louis asked, redirecting the subject. “Don’t you want to show the boys? They’ll get a kick out of it.” Harry arched a brow. “They won’t be impressed. Liam can practically grow a beard on command,” he said, sighing. Louis gave him a look. “C’mon,” he sighed. “You’re growing a beard and you don’t want to show it off?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry shrugged, thinking about it. “I’m not even sure that’s enough to shave off,” Louis said, squinting as he examined the hairs again. Harry swatted him away, but he laughed slightly. Louis would tease the hell out of him, but at the end of the day, Harry knew that he was happy for him. It was a big deal for Harry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, how much longer do we have?” Louis asked him, leaning down to button his shirt, starting from the bottom and working his way up to the top. “Don’t want to be late again, Caroline had a fit last time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry glanced at the time on his phone. “Forty minutes til we have to be there. Should be out the door in about ten,” he remarked, walking out of the bathroom and reaching for a T shirt, pulling in over his chest, bound tightly by his binder. He smoothed over his chest,  flattened by the taut spandex. His shirt was slightly wrinkled after being shoved down in the bottom drawer of his dresser for almost a month, but it didn’t really matter. He would change before the interview anyways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis sighed as he stepped out, running his fingers through his hair. He’d taken to growing it out a little longer nowadays, even though it was nowhere as long as Harry’s. His fell in long curls down to his shoulders, covering the collars of his button ups. With a little practice, he’d learned how to tie it up in a bun even. While a younger version of him might’ve felt a little self conscious about the long hair, it just stopped bothering him at this point. What did it matter anyway? It was just hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You ready?” He asked Louis as he reached down, tightening the laces on his boots. “Sure,” Louis said, chuckling as he grabbed his keys. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now, with the release of your third album coming in just a couple months, please tell us, which track have we not heard that you think we’ll like the most?” The interviewer asked, smiling genuinely. Harry thought for a minute, glancing around at the boys. Louis spoke up first, holding his mic up to his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s this one that’ll be released as a single pretty soon, I think the fans will appreciate it,” he said. Harry watched Louis, remembering a time when he wouldn’t have been allowed to do this, or even sit next to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds interesting,” the interviewer mused, grinning shyly. “Can you give us a hint? The title or something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis grinned cheekily, nodding in her direction and raising his eyebrows, thinking of what he was allowed to say. “I think I can say the title,” he said, looking out at the crowded audience, full of fans. They all shouted for him to say it, and Harry smiled just as Louis did. “Alright, alright, calm down,” Louis said, making a couple of the fans laugh. “It’s called Story Of My Life,” he said, making them react very noisily. He smirked at them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry grinned. That was his favorite. Partially because they’d written on it, but also because it had a very special meaning to him. It was a lovely song overall, and he couldn’t wait for the video shoot they’d be doing in less than a month. It was a very sentimental concept they were going to do. One of their managers had the idea to use old photos and recreate them, showing how much they’d grown up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To be completely honest, Harry was a tiny bit scared at the idea of putting a childhood photo of himself there, especially since he’d hid most of them in a box in his mum’s attic, along with several of his old belongings. But he’d agreed to do it. All he had to do was pick out a photo he liked. Maybe the one of his tenth birthday, right after his haircut, where he was sitting in front of the cake with half of the candles still lit, blowing them out in slow motion. It was impossible to forget the feeling of that day; it was literally like a dream come true. He kept having to pinch himself to see if it was real, or if he’d died and gone to heaven after the roof incident. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” The interviewer asked, “That sounds brilliant. Well, I can’t wait to hear it, and I’m sure your fans can’t either.” Harry grinned at her. “Thank you,” he said, raising the mic to his lips. She smiled at him, glancing down at her question cards. She cleared her throat, looking back up with another friendly grin on her face. “Now, your documentary, </span>
  <em>
    <span>This Is Us, </span>
  </em>
  <span>was going to be released last year, but the film was cancelled after you split from your management,” she said, barely glossing over all the details. Harry raised an eyebrow at the summary, unsure of whether or not to be impressed at how simple it sounded from an outside perspective. “However, you are releasing a new film titled </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Truth Behind One Direction,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she said, and the fans applauded, making the boys grin at the show of support. “Now, you’ve said in the past that it will be even more honest than the first documentary was meant to be, giving details into your personal lives and struggles. Now, I don’t want to get too invasive,” she said, holding her hands up in silent apology ahead of time, “but can you give us any details of what you would talk about that you couldn’t talk about in the first film?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All eyes turned on Harry. Of course they did. He smiled, pursing his lips as he raised the microphone back up to his lips. “Well, for me at least, I wasn’t allowed to talk about my experiences as a transgender artist,” he said, gesturing with his hands as he explained, “and I hope that by talking about it, I’ll be able to reach out to our fans and other, smaller artists who may be interested in producing music, who might be trans. I’m hoping that I can inspire them,” he added, to the applause of the audience. The interviewer smiled at him, and he grinned genuinely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was still the weirdest feeling to casually talk about being trans. It had been kept so secret for so long, almost as if it was vital that he be hidden away. But now, he could talk about it without fear of being stopped by his manager, or called slurs right to his face. That was probably the best part. For a whole year, nobody had called him </span>
  <em>
    <span>tranny </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>fag </span>
  </em>
  <span>to his face. He was sure that they had behind his back, and he knew they did online, but it was better. There wasn’t an Alan to be afraid of anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now, you’ve talked about meeting each other on the X Factor before, but you say you’ll be using footage from the show in the documentary, with permission from the producers themselves,” she said, reading once more from her cards. “Tell us: how did all of you really meet?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis raised his mic up to speak. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Four years ago, backstage at the X Factor. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mum!” Harry cried in protest, shying away from Anne’s finger, rubbing at his cheek to remove a smudge. She sighed. “Stay still for a minute and it’ll be over,” she said, laughing to herself. Harry rolled his eyes. “Why?” He asked, glancing  around. “Mum, you’re gonna embarrass me,” he pleaded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked up at him, arching an eyebrow. He pursed his lips, praying she wouldn’t be that mad. “Darling, nobody’s around. I just don’t want you to look back on this in a few years and wonder why you’re on the telly, wearing your lunch on your cheek,” she said, rubbing again at his cheek. “There ,” she smiled, patting his cheek. “All done.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed. Truth be told, his protests were all in good humor. He didn’t really care, so long as nobody saw. He didn’t need anybody thinking he was some mama’s boy. He just wanted to seem cool. Nobody here knew his life, they didn’t know what he’d gone through. This was his chance to make an impression, and he had, at least on the judges. He was surprised he’d passed the audition. He’d just signed up for fun, he didn't actually expect to make it to Boot Camp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But now, here he was. He’d dressed in his nicest polo, his khaki slacks neatly ironed to make a good impression. He smoothed them over now, wiping his hands on his thighs. “How do I look?” He asked nervously. Anne smiled, shaking her head at the way he bit his lip while searching for her approval. “You look very handsome,” she said, reaching out a hand to caress his cheek. He smiled, blushing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” he said. She glanced behind her, looking around at the halls. “You might be called soon,” she said. “Do you want to use the bathroom? Make sure you’re all ready?” Harry nodded. He turned to leave, but she caught his wrist. “Do you feel safe using the men’s restroom?” She asked quietly. He bit his lip, nodding. “Yeah,” he said. “Nobody’s gonna know.” She smiled weakly. “Well, alright then,” she said. He nodded again, smiling as he ran off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t take long to find the men’s bathroom. He had to admit, it was a little intimidating to think about it, but also exhilarating at the same time. Being able to be in the bathroom he wanted, with nobody suspecting a thing- it felt like heaven. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He went into one of the stalls, doing his business as quickly as he could. He didn’t hear the door swinging open as he pulled his pants back up, flushing the toilet. He opened the stall door, running straight into another boy with a smack. Falling to the floor, he clutched his head, which had collided against the boy in question, who held out a hand. “Oops,” Harry muttered quietly, gritting his teeth together to keep from cursing. The other boy laughed. It was a nice laugh, not the kind of “making fun of you” laughing he’d been accustomed to. He looked up, grasping the other boys hand and letting him help him to his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” the boy said, grinning. Harry blinked suddenly getting a good look at him, realizing just how pretty this boy was. His brown fringe was swept over the left side of his face, but the brightest blue eyes shone from beneath his hair. He smiled, his thing lips forming a curved shape as he grinned, the teensiest glimpse of perfect teeth showing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Harry said, shaking his hand. The boy smiled again, chuckling. “Sorry about that,” he said. Harry shook his head, grinning breathlessly. “Don’t worry,” he said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The blue eyed boy grinned. “I’m Louis,” he said. A name for the beautiful face. Harry nodded, smiling. “I’m Harry,” he said, and to his surprise, Louis just said, “I know. I watched your audition.” Harry blushed, grinning. “You sang beautifully,” Louis said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry smiled again, even wider this time. “Thanks,” he said. Louis smiled, his expression softening. “No problem,” he said. “I’ll see you around?” Harry nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “See you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With another couple awkward glances and grins, Harry stepped aside, letting Louis go into the stall, going to the sink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He left quickly, unsure whether he was embarrassed, flustered, or in love. Or you know, some weird combination of all three. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Fuck- Haz!” Louis cried, wrapping his fingers around Harry’s hips, fingernails digging in slightly. Harry grit his teeth, moving his hips in circles as he moved up and down, Louis’ cock thrusting in and out of Harry’s tight heat. He hissed at the burn, still getting used to the feeling of being over Louis.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slowly, as he continued to ride Louis, the slight sting eased as he focused on the euphoric drag of Louis’ cock against his rim, his slender fingers wrapping around Harry’s thighs and gripping the hem of his tank top, tugging down. Harry bit his lip as another wave of pleasure built up; Louis ran his thumb up and down his slit. His sweaty curls fell over his face, and he reached up with one hand to quickly push them behind his ear, quickly placing it back around Louis’ shoulders as they rocked back and forth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He locked eyes with Louis, leaning forward and panting heavily. He’d never get used to this- the pure euphoria of it all, the way Louis’ hand felt on his body, the same body he’d hated for so long, squeezing and touching and sending shudders down Harry’s spine- it made him feel almost beautiful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He grinned at Louis, a playful smirk plastered across his face, leaning in wordlessly and connecting their lips, moving their mouths together sloppily and passionately. He moaned against Louis’ mouth as he rode out his orgasm, slowing the movements of his hips. Louis came shortly afterwards, his hands moving up and gripping at Harry’s back, pulling at the cotton shirt he always wore to bed. They sat like that for a minute, breathing heavily into each other’s faces, slight grins on their faces as they came down from their highs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slowly, Harry pulled off of Louis, lying beside him on their bed, burying his face in Louis’ bare chest. Louis reached over, stroking Harry’s curls, pulling on them slightly and twirling them between his fingers. Harry smiled, sighing as he nuzzled into Louis’ warm body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sounds of their heavy breathing filled the bright room, sunlight streaming in through the window. “God,” Louis sighed, rolling over and pressing a kiss onto Harry’s lips. Harry watched him as he sat up, peeling off the used condom and throwing it into the bin. “You’re so beautiful, you know?” He said, leaning back over the bed, trailing his fingers over the soft curves of his silky smooth hips. Harry grinned. He wasn’t quite used to receiving compliments like that yet, but it wasn’t unappreciated. “Thanks,” he said shyly, reaching up to run his thumb over Louis’ chin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis' face softened, leaning down and pressing another kiss to Harry’s forehead. He stood up, walking across the room. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said, looking over at Harry. “Wanna join?” Harry shook his head, smiling weakly. Louis nodded his understanding, turning into the bathroom and closing the door only slightly, leaving it open a bit. Harry heard the shower turn on, the steady beat of water against the tiled floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed, sitting up and reaching for the tissues. He wiped himself off, making a note to clean himself later in the shower. And yeah, he could’ve just taken one with Louis, but he still got uneasy at the thought. He just didn’t want Louis to see him fully naked yet, and he always slept in a shirt. The closest Louis had ever gotten to see his chest was when Harry wore a thin white shirt, but it was dark and Harry wasn’t sure how much he’d actually seen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He just didn’t want to show Louis something he was scared of seeing himself. He never changed in front of the mirror, and if he did he looked away. Saying he was afraid of seeing it might have been an overstatement, but he had to say that it wasn’t something that he was comfortable with. It was something that he'd hated ever since he’d started puberty, and the sooner he could finally get the surgeries, the better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which, speaking of, he’d actually started to think about. The past year had been amazing. And he’d started to think of everything he’d wanted to do before slipping back into his depression. And at the top of his list: top surgery. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There wasn’t anything holding him back from it anymore. His managers understood, the fans all knew, and they’d be given a break between the promo for the film and the beginning of their tour, surely it would be enough time to recover from a potential surgery. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The real reason he wanted it so badly was that he was already twenty. He waited to be old enough to have surgeries in the first place only to not get them when he turned old enough. He didn’t want to live his life too uncomfortable to even look at his own reflection, and the idea of being out and about with a flat chest without the aid of a binder was so tempting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d lived so long hating the body he’d been born in, he just wanted to be happier with himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He got up, walking across the bedroom to the dresser. He opened the first drawer, reaching for a clean pair of his boxers. He knelt over, slipping them on and pulling them up his legs, toned from all the exercise he’d been doing lately. He was starting to see a difference, and it was nice to see muscles instead of his thin legs and arms. He’d really begun to buff up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Smiling to himself, he pulled his shirt over his head, almost immediately reaching for his binder and pulling that on. He was adjusting it as he heard the door open, and he felt a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, a dripping wet chin nestling into his shoulder. He didn’t even have to look at him to know how big Louis was grinning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Babe, you’re getting me wet,” he protested as Louis began to sway, rocking Harry back and forth between his arms. “Thought that’s the point,” Louis said, his tone subtle and teasing. Harry rolled his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your mind,” he sighed, giggling as Louis pulled him back onto the bed. “Lou!” He cried, falling onto Louis. The older man groaned, laughing while he kept his arms wrapped around Harry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry sighed, snuggling into Louis’ chest despite the fact that he was all wet when Harry had started to dress himself back up. Well, he was only in his pants and his binder, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still get wet. He didn’t mind, though. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, songwriting this afternoon, huh?” He asked, reminding Louis of the session they’d scheduled with one of their writers. Louis nodded. “S’ crazy to think about that,” he remarked. “We’re going to have a third album.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Louis said. “I never thought I’d actually ever release anything, much less-” he gestured with his hands, trying to get across how massive the amount of success they’d had was “-this.” Harry nodded, smiling. “What did you think was going to happen at the beginning?” Louis asked him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>July 23, 2010.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry sat quietly, waiting for what to do next. He’d been rejected. He’d been rejected with all the other boys who’d auditioned, and he couldn’t help but cry. He’d tried holding his tears back, but the lump in his throat was too much. The producers had shoved a camera in his face, probably for a good bit of television. People loved drama, and now all he’d be remembered for was crying after being sent home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked around, seeing the different boys. Some of them were crying along with him. He recognised Liam, who’d already been sent home before. The boy from the bathrooms, Louis, looked despondent, disheartened by the judges’ decision. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The producers eventually came forward, and Harry got up, barely listening to what they had to say, until he heard his name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry Styles.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His head shot up, and he looked confused, furrowing his eyebrows together. A blonde boy leaned close to his ear, whispering, “They want us to go back on stage.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a raggedy breath, Harry nodded slowly, following the producers back on stage. Five boys. Four girls. They all whispered amongst themselves, each just as confused as the next. “They’re probably bringing us back for TV,” Harry muttered, not expecting anything good. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all made it to the front of the stage, and the boys all huddled together. Harry felt someone reach for his hand, and he glanced up, recognizing louis. He smiled weakly, just as Nicole, one of the judges, picked up the mic and said, “Hello.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all answered back, and she went on to talk about how hard it must’ve been for them. Harry swallowed hard, glancing down at his feet. He didn’t understand why he was there, he didn’t understand what they were doing. She told them that they were too talented to go home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry looked up just when Simon told them they were going to be a group. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all cried out in joy, and he turned to wrap his arms around Louis, who quite literally jumped into his arms. Simon warned all nine of them onstage that they’d have to work hard, but Harry was too happy to care. He buried his face in Louis’ chest, hoping for the best.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
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<br/>
<br/>
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</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Well, Harry, it’s nice to see you again,” Sonya said, extending a hand for him to shake. Harry took her hand, shaking it gently. “You too,” he said, sinking down onto the couch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had been a while since he’d visited his therapist in person. After everything that happened two years ago, he decided to switch therapists- no offense was meant to Trisha. She was a good therapist, but he felt like he needed to talk to someone who specialized in gender dysphoria. Being outed was one of the worst experiences in his life to date, and he’d almost died twice at his own hands. He needed help and advice and someone who could help him with everything he felt that most people had yet to understand. He didn’t understand a lot of it himself. He knew what he felt, and apart from a little bit of the actual science that went into it, he didn’t know much else. Simply, he knew what emotions he felt. The physical aspect, the science and chemicals in his brain, he only had a limited knowledge of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s why he asked to come in today, instead of calling Sonya over the phone. He was wanting to ask about possibly transitioning further. He’d often dreamed about having a body that looked how he felt. Since he was a little boy, he’d wished to suddenly wake up and everything would be alright. Obviously, that never happened, but now that he was older, he fit all the requirements for the surgeries to change his body. And it was something he just really wanted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, so how have you been feeling?” Sonya asked as he sat down and made himself comfortable. He smiled, shaking his hand in a way that said ‘alright.’ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Things have been pretty good,” he said. “We’ve gotten back to working, but it feels alright now. Less stressful.” She smiled at him, marking something down in her notes. “That’s good,” she said. “And your relationship with your boyfriend- how are things going?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He blushed at the mention. “Things are amazing,” he said. “We haven’t had any problems in a long time.” Sonya smiled softly. “That’s lovely,” she said. “Now, is there a reason you’ve come in today besides job stress or relationship troubles?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Harry said, leaning forward. He could feel his heart beating inside of his chest as he said, “I was wondering if now would be a good time to look into getting surgery?” Her eyebrows raised, and she nodded, thinking quickly.  “Well, gender reassignment surgeries are ones that will take a long time to recover from,” she began to explain. “Take top surgery for example. You would have to wear a compression binder a week afterwards before an appointment to remove the bandages. Then, there’s about two to three weeks where you’re not supposed to lift your hands above your head, so the scars won’t increase. And then, you’re usually not supposed to engage in physical exercise until six to eight weeks after the surgery,” she finished. “I understand that you have a tendency to run around in your performances, so you might need to keep that to a minimum after the surgery should your recovery overlap with your tour.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded. “Well, we have a three month gap between the album release and the documentary release,” he offered. “We start our tour back up a couple of weeks before the film comes out, and we’ll be in LA by then. So, if I was going to get the surgery then, when would you recommend?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyebrows arched again. “So, I take that you’re planning to get this surgery,” she remarked. “Well, I’m not your surgeon, so you’d have to get in contact with one to arrange the dates. I can give you a couple contacts if you want to reach out to any of them, given your current location at the time,” she added. Harry nodded. With all of their upcoming promo for the album and the film, there was no telling where Harry could be if he was planning and preparing for a major surgery. He’d have to check his schedule for which doctor would be the most reliable in terms of location. They were in London now, but that could change very quickly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d also need to talk to his manager and ask for exceptions to be made concerning the surgery. He might need to skip out on a concert, or to sit throughout the whole of one without holding his arms up. This wasn’t something he’d just be able to plow through; he’d need to take time off to recover and go to appointments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, he had faith that he’d be allowed a few exceptions and privileges. Their new manager was, to say the least, very much the polar opposite of their old one. But even that was an understatement. Her name was Aaliyah, and she was nice, and Harry felt like he could relax around her, rather than his older one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shuddered just at the thought of Alan. The months he’d spent in rehab were absolutely horrible. He’d wake up in cold sweats from nightmares of the man screaming slurs in his face, even in front of his bandmates. The worst dreams were the ones where they all laughed along. Even Louis, although Harry knew his boyfriend would never do that in real life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only thing that got him through his time spent in the mental hospital was Louis. Even at his worst, when he was only a few tears away from breaking down, he thought of his pact to Louis and he knew he had to get better. Even when he didn’t want to. He had to. He couldn’t break Louis’ heart again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even after all this time, Louis still got him through the day. Whenever he had a panic attack. Whenever he got so worked up over all his terrors. Whenever he was close to breaking down. And, on a sadder note, whenever he thought about hurting himself again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t happen often, but it did happen. And he tried to push through it as hard as he could. He tried to journal, write, really he did anything he could do to get through the feeling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t had an episode like that in almost two months, which was a new record for him. He hoped to keep it up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he said. Sonya smiled. “Of course,” she said. “Are there any other questions you have?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, I was wondering about- well, bottom surgery,” he said, gritting his teeth awkwardly. She pursed her lips, smiling to herself. “Well, if you’re asking if that is an option, then yes, it is,” she said, and he sighed in relief, glad to get over the awkwardness of the question. “The hormone replacement therapy you’ve been on should help to prepare for the potential of constructing a penis.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How?” Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. “Well, the testosterone you’ve been taking since you were fourteen should have begun to elongate the clitoris,” she explained. “There are two procedures you can have in order to construct a neopenis: a metoidioplasty or a phalloplasty. A metoidioplasty is a simpler operation, although there are a couple drawbacks,” she added. “Essentially, it repositions the clitoris and constructs a neopenis from donor tissue. There may be further procedures afterwards. An advantage is that, due to the clitoral tissue, you may achieve erection,” she explained. “Although, through metoidioplasty, it’s not often that the neopenis is long enough for penetration.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded. He could live with that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“With a phalloplasty, a skin graft is taken from your arm or your back to construct the neopenis,” Sonya explained. “While this results in a larger penis, it wouldn’t become erect on its own.  However, after a period of recovery, you can undergo more procedures to ensure that you’d be able to maintain an erection for penetrative sex.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Again, Harry nodded. He didn’t really know what else to do. “I’m not sure if I want that yet,” he said. “Maybe if i were on a longer break.” Sonya nodded. “I wouldn’t recommend you undergo either procedure anytime soon,” she said. “I understand that you do have a busy schedule, and that it can get complicated. You’d need a longer recovery time after bottom surgery than if you got your breasts removed.” She turned to the side table, pulling out the drawer and reaching inside, fishing around for what she was looking for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here you go,” she said, handing a couple paper cards to Harry, all of them embossed with fine lettering. “These are a couple surgeons who specialize in gender reassignment surgery. I hope that helps a little,” she said. He smiled, tucking them into his pocket. “Of course,” he said. “Thank you so much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nodded. “As always,” she said. “And please, don’t feel afraid to come to me with problems or to give me a call. It’s my job to help you,” she said, a slight smile. He chuckled. “Of course,” he said, left feeling a tiny bit guilty, knowing all of the times he’d lied about being alright, or left out parts of the truth that he didn’t like. </span>
</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>any thoughts??? </p><p>also, please leave a comment, i love getting feedback from y readers and seeing what i can do to improve my writing ❤️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>August 2010 </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Harry sat in the backyard of his dad’s house, phone in his hand as he basked in the summer warmth and the cool breeze. He was outside for a reason, and his parents loudly arguing back and forth didn’t help him to forget said reason. </p><p> </p><p>His relationship with his dad was strained, to say the least. He tried as hard as he could to connect with him, to get the man to see him as his son. Even six years after Harry’s initial coming out, his dad still had a hard time getting used to it. But he was trying, and that was enough for Harry. It was comforting to know that his dad was at least trying to be better and to remember pronouns and new names and such. He never intentionally messed things up and got things wrong. </p><p> </p><p>But still, the arguing between his mum and dad got too much that Harry had to leave the house to get peace of mind. He had a soda by his side, wearing a light shirt, and he breathed in and out, trying to calm himself down. </p><p> </p><p>He was holding his phone and messaging Louis, which was nice. Louis was sweet, and Harry really liked him. So far, he was proving to be a great friend, and Harry messaged him when things got overwhelming. Like now. He could hear his parents through the walls of the house. He couldn’t help but wonder what exactly had gone wrong between them. Sometimes, he completely forgot that they’d been married once. It just seems that unbelievable. His mum was all supportive of Harry, and his dad was trying, but a part of Harry felt like his dad would be trying for a long time until he put in enough thought to get it right the first time. </p><p> </p><p>They were actually arguing over something so stupid, and Harry couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault all over again. He’d asked if he could have the boys over to get to know each other and to practice and come up with a name. They’d only been a band for about a week, and they all collectively decided that they needed to know each other. </p><p> </p><p>His dad offered to play host for the boys. It went downhill from there. Eventually it got too much for Harry, and there he was. Messaging back and forth with a boy he’d only known for a month or two. </p><p> </p><p>He could hear his mum. She was yelling about how his dad was going to misgender Harry in front of his new friends before he was ready to come out to them. His dad yelled back, promising that he’d never do that to “her.” And Anne shot back, her cutting remarks only proven true by her ex husband’s response. </p><p> </p><p>Harry sighed. He couldn’t wait to talk to Louis in person again. To lock eyes with his beautiful blue orbs, to hug him close. He smiled, his heart feeling all fluttery at the thought. He’d never given much thought to his sexuality, but he’d found himself liking both boys and girls, and Louis wasn’t any exception. Harry blushed at the thought of him, and he only hoped that Louis might just like him back. </p><p> </p><p>He glanced down at his phone, smiling. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>From Louis: are u excited for the judge’s house</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Harry grinned, typing out a message to Louis as he ignored the argument going on in the background. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>From Harry: you bet :D</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>From Harry: u?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>From Louis: im buzzing, believe me</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>From Louis: can’t wait to see you at practice :)</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Harry blushed, tucking his phone away for a minute. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have gone from nearly being kicked off to being placed in a band with the same boy he truly believed to be that person, to be the man of his dreams. And maybe he was over exaggerating, maybe he was being stupid, but all the same, he couldn’t believe his luck. </p><p>
  <br/>
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</p><p>
  <b>Present Day. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Louis set out the table, preparing the dinner he’d made while Harry was out at his appointment with his therapist. He wasn’t often one to blow his own trumpet, but he had to admit, there was an excited feeling in his belly as he prepared this spontaneous romantic dinner for Harry. The next thing they’d be doing as a band would be flying all the way to New York for American promo. So, the timing was great, considering they had about four days before their flight to New York. </p><p> </p><p>He’d had the idea when Harry commented that they hadn’t had time to have a proper date in a month or so. And he wasn’t wrong. They’d been so caught up in promo that most days, they didn’t have the time or the energy to plan a date or go out. Not to mention that most times they couldn't go out until it was late at night. None of the fans knew. </p><p> </p><p>Making the decision to stay in the closet wasn’t forced or against their will. It was a mutual decision Louis and Harry had made after about a week of discussing it. Eventually, they’d just decided that they weren’t ready. They’d only been together for a couple months at the time, and like any other couple, they wanted to keep things private and sacred between them. Even now, after a year and a half, Louis still wasn’t sure they were ready to come out. They had the right to, but they wanted it to be the right time. </p><p> </p><p>Slowly, Louis had grown more comfortable with the idea of coming out. He wasn’t sure how Harry thought about it yet, but maybe he’d try to talk to his boyfriend about the potential of them coming out soon. It would be exciting, and definitely something neither of them had ever expected, but times were changing. The world was slowly becoming a better place, and far more accepting than when Harry and Louis were growing up. </p><p> </p><p>Harry often said that he was happy that he was allowed to make public statements about and to openly advocate for trans rights. To think that there might be a little boy out there, in the same situation he’d been in when he was younger, who could look up to him and feel like there was somebody who could be so open about his experiences. To be able to be a role model for other people like him was an amazing feeling, Harry always said. </p><p> </p><p>Louis glanced up, looking at the steaming pot of pasta that had been simmering on the stove for almost half an hour. He was waiting for Harry to get back, and the dinner was on low heat, ensuring that it would be warm in time for their date (of sorts.)</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t long before the front door was opening. Louis glanced up just in time to watch Harry walking through the door. He smiled happily, locking eyes with his boyfriend. “Hey,” he said, gesturing around the dining table. Harry glanced around, chuckling as he slowly began to grin. “What’s all this?” He asked, smiling widely. Louis shrugged. “I just wanted to have a nice dinner,” he said, “do you like it?” </p><p> </p><p>Harry blushed, pursing his lips to hide how widely he smiled. “Thank you,” he said shyly. “This is lovely.” Louis grinned, walking over and pulling out a chair for Harry to sit. Harry slipped out of his jacket, sinking down into the chair. Louis turned the stove off and carried the pot of pasta over to the table, where the silverware and bowls were already set out. </p><p> </p><p>“What did you make?” Harry asked, watching as Louis spooned the meal out into their bowls. “Well, I looked up a couple recipes on the Internet,” he said, “this is pasta, and it’s got chicken in it, and a cheesy sauce.” Harry smiled, grabbing a fork as Louis sat down. “Well, thanks, love,” he said. “It looks amazing.” </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks,” Louis said, blushing a little bit. “I wanted to do something, you know, since we’re leaving in a couple of days.” He watched as Harry’s eyebrows raised, almost as if he suddenly remembered something. The look didn’t last long, as soon as he tasted the pasta, he smiled, savoring the taste. “Ah, Lou,” he said slowly, “it’s amazing.”</p><p> </p><p>Louis grinned. “Good to know,” he said. “I thought it was all going to shit for a minute. I almost burned it.” Harry snorted. “Of course,” he teased. Louis shook his head, chuckling. “Aww, give me a break,” he said. Harry laughed, showing off his toothy smile. Louis liked that smile. It was reserved for him, and he’d never seen Harry smile that way at anybody else, not in the same way at least. </p><p> </p><p>“This is amazing, Boobear,” Harry said, making Louis smile at the pet name, “very romantic.” He propped his elbows on the table, resting his chin in the palms of his hand. He smirked to himself, pursing his lips in a cute pout. Louis smiled cheekily as Harry reached for Louis’ hand, tracing his fingers over Louis' wrist and trailing all the way up to his bicep. “But you know,” he said slowly, seductively, “we don’t have to just stop here tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>Louis smirked. “I love where that’s heading,” he said, leaning in to brush his lips up against Harry’s.</p><p>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>any thoughts?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry’s lips moved against Louis’ as his head was pushed against the soft pillow. He smiled, moving one of his hands from the back of Louis’ neck to the small of his back, fisting at his shirt. Louis shifted over Harry, moving his hand to grip Harry’s hips, running his thumb over the soft skin beneath his shirt. Harry squirmed a tiny bit, but he was fine. He usually let Louis at least reach his hand underneath his shirt to feel the skin of his belly beneath. The furthest he’d ever gotten up Harry’s shirt was the belly button level.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry was actually a little surprised at how ok with his boundaries that Louis was. He’d only ever been with Louis; he’d been a virgin before him. He hadn't been with anyone else for the reason that he didn’t ever feel comfortable enough to. He’d tried before, with a boyfriend he’d had in high school. They’d only ever gotten as far as a couple blowjobs and an attempt at fingering Harry, which failed (he wasn’t as good as he’d made out to be, leading to a lot of disappointment on Harry’s part.) Other than that, all Harry’s sexual experiences were by himself before he and Louis still got together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which was crazy to think about. Harry often thought about what might have happened if he and Louis hadn’t told each other about their feelings when they did. It scared him, too. There was a part of him that whispered to him in his nightmares, where he thought he might’ve finally succeeded in his attempts to end his life had Louis not promised to be there with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he’d always feel grateful to Louis for coming into his life when he did. If he hadn't, Harry wouldn’t have been there, kissing Louis, knowing just how much he could love one person. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled away from Louis for a minute, breathing heavily. Louis grinned as he sat up, pausing to catch his breath. “Do you wanna do this?” He asked. Harry nodded eagerly and immediately turned, getting up and walking towards the dresser. He unbuttoned his shirt while he did so, glancing over his shoulder. Louis had already turned to give Harry a little privacy, removing his own shirt and beginning to unbutton his jeans. Harry smiled, a rush of blood going to his cheeks, flushed with excitement and arousal. He got his shirt off as quickly as he could, and removed his binder with ease, opening the drawer and grabbing one of his smaller shirts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned back to Louis once he’d worked the shirt over his head, reaching down to fumble with the button of his pants. He always tripped trying to step out of them, and Louis laughed, making Harry blush even more. He crawled back onto the bed, reaching for Louis. His hands cupped his boyfriend’s face as he fell against the pillows again, spreading his legs and letting Louis rest in between them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They just lay there for a couple minutes- kissing and running their hands all over each other’s bodies. Louis was mindful of Harry’s boundaries, and he still continued to trace his fingers along Harry’s pelvic bone, playing with the elastic band of his boxers. He pulled them away, reaching gently with his fingers and feeling in between Harry’s legs. Harry stifled a moan as Louis’ fingers ghosted over his slit, playing with his folds. He broke the kiss, grinning against Louis’s lips as he shifted, allowing himself to pull the boxers down. Louis sat up, helping to pull the underwear off of Harry’s ankles and onto the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you got a condom?” Harry asked. Louis nodded, reaching for the foil wrapper he’d tossed on the side of the bed. “That’s good,” Harry said. “Wouldn’t want anything happening.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you even get pregnant?” Louis asked, sitting on the side of the bed as he worked his own boxers down his legs. Harry shrugged. “I mean, if I went off of my hormone treatment, maybe. But I don’t want to take chances.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Louis muttered, rolling the condom onto his hardened cock. He turned back to Harry, kneeling over him as Harry reached to kiss him again. Louis settled in between his legs, playing with Harry’s long curls in one hand while his other hand trailed down to Harry’s cunt. One of his fingers trailed along his slit, before pushing in, easing in until the knuckles. Harry could feel Louis squeezing his bum, pulling his hair, playing with his clit, anything he could to get Harry aroused. Harry could feel his cunt beginning to throb as Louis played with his wet folds, and he couldn’t help but pant, “Please, Lou. I’m ready.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis gave a curt not, letting Harry lie flat against the pillows as he spread his legs apart. Louis placed a hand behind Harry’s head, kissing him once more as he eased himself inside of Harry’s entrance, using his other hand to guide him. Harry hissed slightly at the feeling of being stretched, his walls fitting around Louis’ cock. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a minute of adjustment, Louis began to move in and out, slowly. His elbows were propped up on either side of Harry’s head as he thrust in and out. Harry audibly gasped as Louis rubbed up against his walls. The friction between his clit and Louis’ cock with each thrust felt euphoric, blood flowing through his veins.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Lou,” he cried, wrapping his hands around Louis’ shoulders, his fingernails digging into the skin, softly, as not to make a mark. He was barely two inches away from Louis’ lips, and he could see the sweat beading on his brow. He bit down on his lip as he bucked his hips up towards Louis. His boyfriend smirked as he pushed in deeper, his hard cock enveloped in soaking heat. Harry cried out, breathing heavily against Louis’ chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Love you,” Louis panted, his hip movements becoming more erratic as his orgasm approached. He came into the condom, and Harry felt him coming as Louis rocked their hips together, riding out his orgasm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Louis said as he collapsed onto the mattress, right next to Harry. They breathed heavily, sweaty chests rising with each frantic gasp for air. “That was amazing,” Harry said, grinning softly to himself. Louis reached out, wrapping an arm around Harry and pulling him close. Harry nestled up closely to Louis’ body, and they lay there, spooning, for over five minutes, maybe seven. Harry just kept breathing peacefully as he calmed down, the rush of hormones in his bloodstream slowing down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Louis got up, pulling off the used condom and throwing it away. He walked to the dresser, getting a pair of boxers and sweatpants and dressing himself, leaving himself shirtless. He tossed a clean pair of Harry’s boxers over in his direction as well, and Harry chuckled, pulling them over his ankles. Louis settles back into bed, only pulling the sheets over them as they lay there, still sweaty and breathless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry turned to his boyfriend. He bit his lip nervously. “I went to therapy today,” he said. Louis nodded, closing his eyes as he smiled. “S’ nice,” he mumbled, slurring his words as he grinned. “What did you talk about?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry took a deep breath. “I told her I wanted to get an operation done,” he blurted out. Louis’ eyes cracked open, one at a time, as he turned to look at Harry, eyebrows furrowed. Harry but his lip nervously. “I want to get top surgery,” he explained. It took a minute, but it dawned on Louis, and Harry watched with amusement as his eyebrows raised and he nodded his understanding slowly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Wow,” Louis said. “That’s a big step.” Harry nodded. “I know,” he said, “but I feel like I’m ready now. You know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis nodded. “Well, that's great, Haz,” he said, smiling. Harry blushed, pursing his lips. “Thanks,” he said softly. He sighed. “It’s crazy to think, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis listened carefully, watching Harry as he stared up at the ceiling. “My whole life has been weird, and then everything is going to lead up to these surgeries,” he remarked. “It’s wild. And just like that, I’ve transitioned. Like, after I change my body, it’s almost over.” Louis nodded. “And it’s crazy. It’s weird,” Harry added, “you think like this all the time. You’ve never had to change your whole body to be the person you knew you were.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a deep breath. “I wish that I’d been born a boy, sometimes, when I can’t sleep,” Harry admitted. “I wouldn’t have gone through everything.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not necessarily true,” Louis said softly. “I might have not met you.” Harry smiled, chuckling a bit. “That’s funny,” he said, turning to face Louis. “You don’t think I’d be able to find you in any lifetime?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis raised an eyebrow, smiling. “You think you’d do that?” He asked. “I know I would,” Harry promised. “I’d search the world to find you. That’s how irresistible you are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis blushed, leaning in to kiss Harry softly on the lips. “Thank you,” he said. “I love you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The feeling’s mutual,” Harry grinned, moving his hand to rest on Louis’ chest as they kissed. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Six</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry sat at the table, quickly eating his breakfast. Louis was busy taking a shower, so Harry had just gone ahead and made his own breakfast. He’d chosen to make pancakes, and he’d decided to make extra in case louis wanted them. He would’ve made the usual bacon and eggs, but pancakes stayed warmer longer. He’d covered them in foil to keep the what trapped within for when Louis got out of the shower. </p><p> </p><p>The reason he was eating in such a hurry was because he’d booked an appointment with one of the gender specialists today. He knew that he wouldn’t be in London forever because of promo and stuff, but they’d definitely be spending their break in London, or at least the majority of it. He could schedule his appointments around when they’d be flying back and forth between the states and his home in London, and he’d take time off for when he’d be preparing for surgery, of course. He had to talk to his manager about that. </p><p> </p><p>He heard a noise from the stairwell, and he turned just in time to see Louis walking down, his shirt clinging tightly to his damp chest as he ran a towel over his head to dry his hair, dripping onto the ground. Harry smiled, pursing his lips. “Morning,” he said. Louis glanced up, grinning smugly. “Hello,” he said, letting the towel rest on his shoulders. “How do you feel today?” </p><p> </p><p>Harry shrugged. “Scale of one to ten?” Louis asked, headed over to the kettle. “Maybe a six,” Harry said. Louis nodded. “Not bad,” he murmured as he filled the kettle with water. “Is there anything keeping it from being a ten?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know,” Harry said, taking a deep breath. “S’ just one of those days, I guess.” Louis nodded again, turning to face Harry. “Whatcha eating?” He asked. Harry took a bite, and he covered his mouth as he said, “Pancakes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nice,” Louis said, “got any more?” Harry nodded as he pointed towards the stove. “On the plate under the foil,” he instructed. Louis nodded, walking over and lifting the foil up. Harry could see the steam rising from the plate, the fluffy little cakes puffed up to about a half inch’s length. Louis prepared himself a plate while the kettle began to boil, pouring a river of syrup over his pancakes. He walked over with a fork in one hand and his plate in the other, his thumb accidentally dipping into the pool of syrup that had collected in the dish. He set the plate down near Harry, lifting his thumb to his mouth and sucking off the syrup. Harry giggled in amusement, and Louis blushed as he sat down. “So, any plans for today?” He asked, eating a bite of syrupy pancake. Harry pursed his lips. “I’ve got an appointment with a gender specialist downtown,” he answered truthfully. He didn’t see a point in lying or keeping the truth from Louis. His boyfriend raised an eyebrow, nodding. “Cool,” he said. “Is this, like, a first visit or a therapy thing?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry shook his head. “No,” he began to explain, “I’ll be meeting with them to discuss the possibility of surgery for me in the next year or so.” Louis paused his chewing, processing the information. “Alright,” he said after a couple moments. “Do you want me to go with you?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “Why?” He asked out of genuine curiosity. “I mean, if you want to, then yeah.” Louis shrugged. “I guess I just wanted to be there,” Louis said. ‘I don’t know, really. I do want to learn and be able to know what’s going to be happening with you.” Harry nodded, smiling softly to himself. “Okay then,” he said. “I’d like for you to come.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>August 2010</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Harry!” Louis called from outside. The boys all sat on the couch inside of the bungalow. Well, except for Louis. He’d gone outside because he was the only one (besides Liam) who knew how to start a fire in the firepit. Harry could sense a bit of tension between the two other boys for some reason, and he didn’t really understand why, but he didn’t want to question it and cause any drama. He hated being the start of a fight. That wasn’t like him at all. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?” He asked, walking back outside and towards Louis. The blue eyed boy grinned at the sight of him. “Do you know where your step dad keeps the lighter fluid?” He asked. Harry nodded, walking over to the shelf. He picked up the plastic container off of the shelf, turning back to Louis as he handed it to him. Their fingers touched briefly as they exchanged the container, and Harry actually had to physically turn away from Louis to hide the way he blushed. This little crush of his might be getting out of hand, but he couldn’t help but feel like it might actually lead somewhere. </p><p> </p><p>Louis constantly gave him mixed signals. He was a joker, and Harry never knew where the jokes ended and Louis began. If the extravagance was all for show or not. Sure, there were times he was serious when they’d attempted to practice, but other than that, he constantly tried to lighten the mood and make people feel happy (it never failed to work for Harry.) </p><p> </p><p>Harry held on to the chance that Louis might just like boys. </p><p> </p><p>“So,” Louis said, trying to start a conversation as he sparked a match and dropped it over the firewood. It dropped down into the ashes ready there from previous uses of the firepit, but a tiny glow arose from below the branches they’d picked up around the backyard. Harry and Louis watched as the tiny glow began to flicker and spread, and soon, they had a miniature fire started. Louis crouched to the level of the fire out, poking the branches to overturn them occasionally with another stick. Harry smiled. “Yeah?” He asked. Louis shrugged. </p><p> </p><p>“So, Haz,” he said, “what’s your deal?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Pardon?” He asked, instinctively slumping over to hide his chest. He was wearing his binder, but he didn’t want it to be noticeable. </p><p> </p><p>“Have you got a girlfriend?” Louis asked. “Or a boyfriend? You know.” Harry shook his head, biting his lip nervously. Just the inclusion of a possible boyfriend in the question started to get his hopes up. “Nope,” he asked. “And you?” Louis grinned. “I got a girlfriend back home,” he said. </p><p> </p><p>Oh. </p><p> </p><p>Harry kept the smile on his face, but he felt his heart sinking as Louis went on, “her name’s Hannah.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry nodded, listening as Louis explained a bit about his relationship. Eventually, he did excuse himself, just as Niall walked out, guitar in hand, followed by the other two boys. He said he’d be out in a minute. </p><p> </p><p>Glancing out the window, he grabbed his sweatshirt from the chair it hung on. He walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself. He turned, looking into the mirror as he nervously began to remove his shirt. His binder was next. </p><p> </p><p>He quickly pulled his sweatshirt over his head, as if someone was about to walk in. Turning to the side, he bit his lip nervously as he checked out his profile. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t that developed yet, and you could only really see the small curve of his chest if you squinted. If he slumped his shoulder and puffed out his stomach, you couldn’t even tell at all. He sighed in relief, gathering his bearings as he stepped back outside. </p><p> </p><p>Nobody suspected a thing. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Present Day. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Hello, Harry, glad you could come in today,” Dr. Jackson said cheerfully as Harry shook his hand. He’d only stepped into his office for a minute, Louis following him, but the doctor had immediately gotten up and introduced himself with a bright smile. “And you are?” He asked politely, holding out a hand for Louis to shake. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m Louis, Harry’s boyfriend,” Louis answered, shaking the doctor’s hand. Dr. Jackson nodded, gesturing for the two men to sit down as he walked behind his desk to situate himself. “Now, Harry, I’m really happy you’ve come in today,” he said. “I understand that gender reassignment surgeries are a huge step in transition, and it’s a huge emotional shift as well.” </p><p> </p><p>Harry nodded. “Yeah,” he said, shifting his hand. “I just want to look into it. I meet all the requirements,” he added. “I’ve been on Testosterone long enough, I’ve lived as a male since I was fourteen, I’m old enough.” </p><p> </p><p>The doctor nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Now, I’ve been told that your therapist broke down the details of the surgeries.” Harry nodded. He reached over for Louis’ hand and grasped it excitedly. “And you’re specifically looking into top surgery,” Dr. Jackson remarked. “Essentially, the operation is a double mastectomy and a nipple graft,” he explained. </p><p> </p><p>Harry nodded again. “I should ask: is it safe to continue performing throughout recovery?” He asked. </p><p> </p><p>“Given your specific career, I’d say that my opinion as a licensed professional would be that you limit your exertion throughout recovery,” Dr. Jackson answered. “See if you can find a way out of it, or if you can take some time off.” </p><p> </p><p>Harry pursed his lips. “And what about scars?” He asked. The doctor nodded. “Well, like anything else, scars take time to heal,” he explained. “They might not fade for awhile. But if you apply sun tan lotion, then you can prevent the scars getting darker.” </p><p> </p><p>Harry had other questions. Eventually, he booked a couple of follow up appointments for when they returned from New York. He glanced over at Louis, and he watched the way Louis did his best to understand everything. He smiled, lucky to have found someone willing to learn how to help Harry without being asked to first. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>any thoughts?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Seven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>tw// suicidal themes</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Louis’ foot hammered against the floor of the elevator. The air was cold, and yet the tension that hung in the atmosphere was so thick that you could have cut it with a knife. His heart beat wildly against his chest. He felt like he might throw up. He struggled to breathe. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Time was running out, and the elevator wasn’t moving fast enough. He needed to get up there, he needed to get to the hotel room, he had to get to Harry before time ran out. He felt lightheaded, but the one thought he could concentrate on was Harry. He needed to get to him, he needed to save him this time. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The doors of the elevator opened slowly, and he tried to move, but his limbs only flailed around in slow motions as the walls surrounding him grew ominously dark. The key appeared in his hand, like always. He closed his fist around the cold metal, dashing away tears as he tried to run. It was like trying to run a mile while he was underwater, pushing through the waves as he rushed to get to Harry before it was too late. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He pushed through the hallway, a constant sound drumming in his ears, matching the rhythm of a slowing heartbeat. He shook his head as he reached for the handle of the door, bringing his other hand to the lock and struggling to fit the key in. A wretched sob escaped his lips when he dropped the key in his attempts to open the door. He crouched down and brought it back up, patiently sliding the key into the lock as the drumming slowed down even more. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The door swung open, and he ran to the bed. Suddenly, the underwater feeling stopped, and he could move normally again, but it was too late. The drumming had stopped. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There Harry lay, cold and lifeless on the bed. The bottle of Lunesta in his hand and a sad, distant look in his glasses eyes. Louis let out a wail, crouching by the bed and taking Harry’s hand in his. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He could’ve stopped this, but he failed every single time. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“NO!” Louis screamed, sitting up suddenly in bed. The lamp light flickered on, and he felt a warm pair of arms wrapping around him, holding him close and safe in the dark room. “It’s ok,” Harry murmured, “I’m safe. Don’t worry, I’m safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis cried out, collapsing in Harry’s arms. He sobbed as Harry hummed out one of his favorite songs, one of </span>
  <em>
    <span>their</span>
  </em>
  <span> songs, and the younger man wiped away the sweat from Louis’ brow. He leaned down close, murmuring sweet nothings into his boyfriend’s ear. Louis sniffed, holding Harry tightly and reaching out to grasp at his shirt, breathing in his scent, making sure he was real. Harry kissed the top of his head. “It’s alright,” he promised. “I’m alright.” Louis nodded, looking up at Harry and into his sleepy green eyes. The curly haired boy smiled weakly, squeezing Louis’ hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for waking you up,” Louis whispered. Harry shook his head, closing his eyes shut. “Don’t be,” he said. “S’ fine. Are you ok?” He asked. Louis hesitated as he took a breath, but he nodded. Harry smiled. “Good,” he said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glanced over at the bedside clock. “It’s five,” he murmured, “wanna go back to sleep?” Louis shook his head. Harry nodded, reaching to dim the lamp a little as they sat there in bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry held Louis for as long as he needed to calm down. Neither of them had expected the nightmares to return, but clearly, they were proven wrong. They used to be every night when Harry came back from rehab, but over the next few months, they’d grown more and more scarce. The last time Louis had one before tonight was four months ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were all the same. He was in the elevator, then he’d run to the door in slow motion, and he’d drop the key trying to get in. But no matter what, he always failed. It was some dark and twisted version of what might have happened, and Louis always woke up in cold sweats and he had to hold Harry, he had to know he was ok. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So there they were. Holding each other in bed at five in the morning, hours before their flight to New York. The light slowly started streaming in through the windows, through cracks in the curtains. They always closed the curtains at night to keep from any fans or paps possibly finding them. At first thought, it seemed like a stupid idea. But, especially given Harry’s history, the fear was less irrational. Ever since a pap had found out what hotel room he’d be in, they’d snapped the right shot and the worst time and publicly outed Harry before he was ever ready. He never found out who it was either. It was an anonymous photograph submitted to DailyMail, and it spread from there to other news sources. All Harry could really do was to sue the news outlets that had published the photo, but in the end he dropped the lawsuit. It wasn’t worth it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His publicity team did their best to erase the articles and accounts that were spreading the photo, but Harry could still find it online if he searched it just right. He wished he could delete the photo entirely, but there was no way. So when he saw an account posting it on Twitter, he reported the tweet and the account. He didn’t want anything to resurface and haunt him, even though media outlets still liked to pin everything- his emotions, whenever he didn’t smile for the cameras, or whenever he seemed less energetic at an awards show or at a performance- on his transition or his depression. It was like this almighty card they always pulled as a way to excuse what he did, and he hated it. Not everything centered around it. He was a singer, first and foremost, and he wished they would just learn how to focus on that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slowly, Louis’ sobs turned to sniffles, and then came thirty blissful minutes of peace. He was fine now, snuggled up in Harry’s arms, although Harry wished that Louis would take his advice and talk to a professional about his night terrors. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wordlessly, they got up and started to prepare for their flight. Harry did press an occasional kiss against the top of Louis’ head, making a little color return to Louis’ pale cheeks. He shrugged off Harry’s attempts to rest his chin on Louis’ shoulder as he held him from behind, even though their height difference made this an easy task. They laughed it off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They only had time to make tea very quickly before they had to leave for the airport. Their driver was coming by in thirty minutes to drive them to the airport, where they’d meet up with Liam, Niall, and Zayn. Even leaving early, they’d arrive sometime early morning in New York because of the time difference. They’d go to the hotel to rest from the flight, then they’d make a public appearance and pap pictures and go to Jimmy Fallon’s late night show for a rehearsal before performing the next day. The day after Fallon, they had an interview and photoshoot with a magazine for the next month’s issue, and they’d be asked about their upcoming album and the documentary as well. After that, it was back to London, and filming their personal interviews would begin, as well as Harry’s appointments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as the driver pulled up and they had finished their tea, they helped to put their suitcases in the back. Harry kept glancing at Louis in the car, noticing how he appeared to be a little shaken up after the nightmare, but unless he looked very carefully for all the signs, Harry would’ve never known. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been thinking,” Louis said quietly and suddenly. Harry nodded, gesturing for him to go on. The driver was in the front seat, he wasn’t listening to their conversation. Louis reached out to hold Harry’s hand. “Do you think maybe we should come out?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry took in a breath, thinking. “Wow,” he said softly. “I didn’t expect that.” Louis pursed his lips, fingers trailing over the back of Harry’s hand. “I mean, of course, I’d like for both of us to be ready, but maybe we should think about that?” He asked. “It’s been almost two years.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded. “I haven’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> thought about it,” he said slowly. “But if that’s something you want, then yeah, I’ll think about it.” Louis grinned. “Thank you,” he said. Harry smiled as he nodded again. “I’ve actually been meaning to talk with Aaliyah recently,” he said. “I’m going to have to explain the whole surgery thing and ask for time off.” Louis nodded as Harry went on, “I’ll schedule a meeting with her after we get back. You can come too,” he offered, making Louis blush. “I’d love to,” he told Harry. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The promo in New York seemed to fly by quickly as Harry anticipated meeting with Aaliyah. He’d scheduled a meeting with her after they flew back to London. Louis was allowed to accompany him, since they were going to be talking about the possibility of them coming out as a couple, and how they would go about that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Harry had thought about it over and over, and in the end, he resolved that there was probably not going to be a better time than right now to announce they were dating. He’d looked under the hashtags, and their fans’ account, and the general agreement seemed to be that they’d be cute together. Especially since Louis and Eleanor had “broken up” after they’d switched their management. Eleanor was signed as a beard under Syco, so she was left without a job after the band left Syco. Louis and Harry had wished the best for her, but they hadn’t talked to her since the article was released saying Louis and Eleanor were no longer together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was amusing to see the fans’ reactions back then. A lot of them had the notion that Louis and Harry were finally coming out, and were sorely disappointed when no such announcement came. But some of them still held onto hope. Although, it bothered Harry to see some of the drama between the fans. A lot of them were saying that both he and Louis were straight (which was clearly false,) and a lot of them didn’t care about Harry at all. Ever since the pap photo, he had sensed a change in how the fans approached him and treated him at meet and greets and in concerts. Some parents were outraged online, which stung, but was to be expected, and to this day, he still saw random accounts that would crop him out of pictures and claim to be a fan of the “four boys.” It actually made Harry’s heart heavy to go online and the constant war between people defending him and people who wanted him out of the band. He ended up deleting all social media apps from his phone, but he went on occasionally to post announcements for the band and such, and occasionally to wish his bandmates a happy birthday. Other than that, he was told it was better for his own mental health to put as much distance between the negative comments and himself as possible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did check the more recents posts on the drive over to the studio, and he was actually surprised at the positivity from the fans. He was smiling brightly as he and Louis stepped out of the car, fifteen minutes to spare before they had to be there for the meeting. And even then as they waited on the benches outside the conference room, he grinned as he talked with Niall over the phone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, mate, are you two serious about coming out?” Niall asked him over the phone. Harry smiled, blushing as he glanced over at Louis, who was distracted by one of the promotional posters for their management. “Yeah,” he said, “it’s just the right time, you know?” He heard a rustling on the other end of the call, and he assumed Niall was nodding without even realizing what he was doing. “Best of luck to you both,” Niall said, “I hope she says yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me too,” Harry said, smiling. “I’m really proud of you,” Niall said. “Have I ever told you that?” Harry grinned. “Maybe once or twice,” he mused, and Niall answered, “Well, I am. I really want the best for you and Louis. You deserve it; both of you,” he added. Harry looked back up at Louis with a bright smile on his face as he. “Hey, I gotta go now, s’ time for the meeting,” he said quickly. He ended the call right after Niall said a hurried goodbye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, Harry, Louis, are you ready?” Aaliyah called, clasping her hands together. Standing in the center of the doorway, she seemed to radiate confidence. There was no trace of nervousness in the flash of her warm brown eyes or the gleam of her bright smile. Harry had to admit that he admired the way she asserted herself, especially considering how she’d started working as an intern for this very management company. She’d worked her way up to the CEO position, and despite the wrinkle in her forehead and the graying streak in her hair, there was still a youthful twinkle in her eye. She loved what she did, and she did it well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry smiled. “Yeah,” he said, reaching for Louis’ hand as he stood up. Louis’ fingers intertwined with Harry’s almost as if by instinct. He smiled, and as they walked in, following Aaliyah into the conference room. They sat down at the long, hardwood table, the glossy surface feeling smooth beneath the pads of Harry’s fingers. He sank down in his seat with a sigh, the soft material of the leather brushing against the back of his arms. He watched Aaliyah sit at the head of the table, her fingernails clicking against the hard surface of the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looked cool and confident, her suit jacket wrapped around her small dark frame and her wedding band on her slender fingers. Harry decidedly liked her from the minute they met her. One of their old managers, Shirley, helped to introduce them and within two weeks, the band had signed with her. They’d hired someone to read over the contracts and everything. Harry wasn’t sure what convinced the others to sign, but he felt some sort of connection with Aaliyah. And not because of her charisma and the way she knew how to navigate a difficult conversation, but because of how she actually respected him. Right off the bat, Harry had told her that he was trans (although it hadn’t hit him that she probably already knew at that point; half the world knew.) He wasn’t going to make the same mistake as the last time. If she reacted like Alan had, he would’ve just gotten up and left. But to his surprise, she’d been agreeable. She’d been gracious and understanding. She promised to learn as long as she knew Harry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he couldn’t help but think of his own mum, and how she’d promised the same thing. The decision was easy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” she said softly. “What did you want to come in for?” Harry pursed his lips, tightening his grip on the side of the table. “Well,” he started, taking a deep breath. “I wanted to let you know that I’ve been talking with a surgeon recently,” he explained, and he watched her eyebrows raise in surprise. “Is everything alright?” She asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “Everything’s fine,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’m not sick or anything. I’ve been meaning to get gender reassignment surgery,” he added, and she smiled, pleasantly surprised. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good for you,” she said, smiling slightly. Harry smiled, feeling a sense of achievement. “Well, I was wondering how this would affect the tour and the documentary?” He asked. She sighed, thinking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When were you planning to get this surgery?” She asked. “And how long will you need to recover?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I was hoping to get it in the next few months,” Harry explained. “I’d probably still be recovering when we start the tour. It’s hard to tell.” She nodded. “Well, I’ll allow some flexibility, like we would with any surgery,” Aaliyah said, “please let us know if there's anything we could do to help make it easier for you.” Harry nodded, a smile on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, and one more thing,” he said, turning back to look at Louis, who sat behind him. Louis smiled, nodding for Harry to go on. Harry took a breath. “We were wanting to come out, too,” he said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aaliyah looked even more surprised, but she nodded. “Alright,” she said. “Was there anything you wanted to do in particular?” She asked. “Do you need me to book you two an exclusive interview, or do you want to film a video? We could lead up to an announcement,” she added, and Louis and Harry glanced over at each other. “I didn’t really think about that,” Louis said. She nodded. “Well, we could do an interview, like I mentioned,” she explained, “or we could do something else… a social media post, maybe?” She suggested. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That sounds good,” Harry said, sharing a glance with Louis as they nodded in agreement. “We could answer a couple of questions in, like, a interview along the way or something.” He turned back to Aaliyah, who nodded with him. “I’ll arrange that,” she said. Harry noticed the twitch of her eyebrows, a sign of one of her ideas springing to life in her mind. “If both of you wanted, we could document your transition, Harry, and your relationship for the fans in the film,” she offered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry grinned slightly at the thought. Many people talked about how Harry being open about his transition had affected their lives and inspired them to be honest with themselves and their identity, and he thought about every one of their fans who’d be touched by seeing that on film. “That sounds great,” he said. “What do you think, Lou?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’d love that,” Louis said with a grin.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Nine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry sat on the couch anxiously, waiting for Louis to come back in the room. “Are you ok?” Liam asked, sitting beside him. He reached out to tap his kneecap comfortingly. Harry pursed his lips. “I’m not sure,” he said. “It’s nerve wracking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I bet,” Liam said, taking a sip of his beer. Harry took a deep breath, exhaling shakily. “I just feel so nervous,” he said. “Why?” Liam asked. “The fans are going to love you no matter what,” he reminded Harry, who only nodded his response. He stayed quiet for a minute, trying to figure out the best way to voice all the words running throughout his mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s weird,” he finally said. “Like, this time, I actually have control over the situation and I’m still scared.” Niall nodded in agreement as he sat down next to Liam, their PR manager sitting in the chair across from them. “I guess I’m just scared about how they’ll react,” Harry said. “Last time, they weren’t... well, you know,” he added, wincing. A flash of guilt shone in Liam’s warm brown eyes as he nodded, the painful memory replaying in his head. Harry sighed sadly. He hadn’t meant to cause any pain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Niall said, reaching out to hold Harry’s hand comfortingly. Harry squeezed it, needing all the comfort he could get. Niall smiled softly. “Listen, you got this,” he said. “This won’t be half as bad as last time. We’ve got you, ok?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded, pursing his lips as he smiled. “Thanks,” he said, letting go of Niall’s hand as they both sat back against the L shaped couch. Harry sank into the cushions, feeling a slight tension knotting in his back as he tried to get more comfortable. It was getting late, and everyone was over here, and Louis was gone for a beer and a chat in the kitchen with Zayn. Harry was counting down the minutes inside his head as the time drew closer for the announcement to go up on Instagram and Twitter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had it all planned out. Harry and Louis took a selfie- it was simple and sweet. They carefully wrote out a brief but meaningful caption for their fans, and well wishes for their upcoming album and documentary as well. Everything was ready to post online, exactly at eight o’clock, American time. Harry wished his mum could’ve been on the phone, talking to him, when it happened, but it was too late over in Holmes Chapel where she was. She’d sent him a living email, though, and he and Louis had already made plans to visit her. He hasn’t seen her in a couple months, and he missed it. He missed talking with her over cups of tea, and she’d ask him how he had been doing and she’d actually sit and listen as long as he needed to speak. He loved when she called him her baby boy. He loved her a lot, and he wished he could live closer to her, instead of living in London or touring halfway across the world. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And even now, even though she was half a globe away, Harry would’ve given anything to have her by his side to support him and Louis instead of him being without her in a private lounge in some Chicago hotel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, and he glanced up, met with beautiful blue eyes. He smiled as Louis leaned down to kiss him, his soft lips pressing against Harry’s gently. Harry could taste the beer on his lips, and he smiled to himself. Louis broke away, not taking his eyes off of Harry as he walked around the couch and sat beside him, nuzzling up to his side. “How’re you feeling?” He asked, almost excitedly. Harry shrugged. “A little nervous,” he admitted. Louis nodded, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. “That’s ok,” he said, “it’ll be alright, though.” Harry smiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aww,” they heard from the other end of the L shaped couch. Harry arched a brow as he turned to see Niall, grinning almost stupidly at the couple. “You guys are cute,” he chuckled, and Harry laughed, shaking his head. He reached up, pushing his curls out of his eyes. “We’ve had some good times,” Louis mused, a grin took his lips. Zayn raised his eyebrows, smirking as he sipped his beer with a chuckle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s that look supposed to mean?” Harry asked, an amused smile to his lips. Zayn shrugged. “Just thinking,” he said. “S’ funny how long it took you two to get together,” he added. Harry’s brows furrowed together, glancing over at Louis as he chuckled. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he repeated himself, and Louis glanced down nervously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don't know,” Zayn cried, laughing. Harry only grew more confused as Louis pinched the bridge of his nose, blushing with embarrassment. “Well, we were on tour,” Zayn started to explain. “I was going up to Louis’ room because I wanted to ask if he wanted to go to a club. I didn’t get the chance to ask,” he added, chuckling slightly, “because he was standing in front of the mirror and talking to himself.” He laughed suddenly, barely containing his giggles as he added, “He was pretending to ask you out!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry laughed, throwing his head back against the couch cushion. Louis’ cheeks were a bright shade of pink as he stifled his laughter. Harry reached over to squeeze his hand. “Seriously?” He asked. Louis nodded sheepishly, and Harry smiled. “That’s sweet,” he said, unable to wipe the grin from his face. “You really think so?” Louis asked. Harry nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I still can’t believe it took you two months to actually ask him out,” Niall chuckled, getting in one more dig. Harry’s jaw dropped. “Two months?” He asked. Louis shrugged. “I was nervous. Besides, didn’t you say you liked me beforehand too? So you had to like me for, I don’t know, at least a month,” Louis pointed out. Harry glanced down. “A little longer,” he admitted. Louis’ eyes widened. “How long?” He asked. Harry pursed his lips. “I mean, since we met,” he admitted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” Louis said. “I didn’t even realize.” Harry shrugged. “You had a girlfriend,” he said. “I was just scared of ruining things.” Louis smiled, squeezing Harry’s hand. “You’ve never ruined anything,” he said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, are you guys ready?” Their PR manager asked. Harry glanced over, suddenly realizing how much closer to eight o’clock it had become. He had to admit, joking with everyone had helped to calm him down a lot. Nervously, he nodded, getting up to look over her shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the screen of her computer, she’d pulled up two tabs, one with their Instagram account and their other with their Twitter account. The same photo was about to be uploaded. Harry smiled. Louis was kissing Harry’s cheek, and Harry was laughing. It was amusing to think it was one of their outtakes, but compared to all the other photos they’d taken, it just felt right to choose that one. It was perfect, and it made Harry happy just to look at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m ready,” Louis said, “how about you, Haz?” Harry took a deep breath. He nodded, reaching to squeeze Louis’ hand. “I’m ready,” he said firmly. Their manager nodded, pressing down on her laptop. It took a minute to load, but it uploaded eventually. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry bit his lip, turning away. “I don’t want to read the comments,” he said suddenly and decidedly. “I don’t want to see the bad ones. Can you read them to me?” Louis nodded, reaching for his phone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This one says that they’re really proud of both of you,” Liam said, reading and smiling. Harry nodded, breathing in and out carefully. “Someone says they knew,” Niall said quietly, “a lot of people are saying they knew.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry glanced down at his feet, a little put off. “That’s fine,” he said. Louis grinned at his phone. “They’re saying they love you a lot, Haz, no matter what,” he said warmly. Harry smiled, feeling tears prick the back of his eyes. He swallowed them down, smiling with joy. “I’m really happy,’ he said quietly. Louis nodded. “Me too,” he said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” Niall said incredulously. “I think you both are going to break Twitter.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Instagram too,” Zayn said with a joyous laugh. “I’m really proud of you two.” Harry nodded, leaning in to hug Louis. They wrapped their arms around each other, holding each other tightly. Everything had gone better than planned, and there were definitely kisses and wine and celebratory sex to come. Louis pressed a kiss to the side of Harry’s neck, taking in a breath of relief. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry glanced back down at the computer, reading the caption once more. He smiled as he read it, feeling like a weight had finally been released from his chest, one that he hadn’t even realized was there in the first place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s been a year and a half already, and we’re still going strong. All the love, Harry and Louis. </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>any thoughts?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Ten</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>One Direction Harry Styles And Louis Tomlinson Reveal Romance Over Instagram and Twitter Post</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>The Truth Behind One Direction: Drugs, Drinking And Secret Gay Relationships</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>From Rumors To Romance: A Look At The ‘Larry Stylinson’ Timeline</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Aww! The Newest Celeb Couple Revealed to Be Louis Tomlinson And Harry Styles</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Much to everyone’s surprise, on Thursday night, One Direction’s Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles revealed that they’ve been dating for a year and a half via Instagram and Twitter posts of the two sharing a sweet moment. However, while we may have not seen this coming, the pair’s fans might have thought otherwise, considering the multiple positive reactions from fans, with some stating that they were proud of the two, and they’d been waiting for the day when the two would announce their romance. </em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>After the two met on the talent show, the X Factor, they immediately hit it off and became close friends from the looks of it. After years of watching them in the band One Direction, we assume that around the time before they split from their old label, Syco Entertainment, they first got together. Around this time, they made the announcement that the release of their film, </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>This Is Us: One Direction, </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>had been cancelled and their third album had been postponed. </em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>However, they’ve recently announced that they will be filming a newer, “more honest” documentary that will be released next year, in July 2015, coinciding with their fifth anniversary since being formed as a band. They are also planning the release of their album, which will be titled </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>Midnight Memories, </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>in a couple of months. </em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>We wish both Louis and Harry the best, and we are very hopeful to see the behind the scenes of their relationships in their upcoming documentary, and we are very excited for the both of them. </em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry knocked on the door of his mother’s house, sighing. The flight had taken its toll on him, and he’d fallen asleep halfway through their trip, snuggling into Louis’ arms, which were wrapped around him the minute he’d sunken into their seats. After he’d spent a long time reading articles about him and Louis, as well as public comments on their relationship. Most people were nice, but some people (with larger platforms, unfortunately) were more harsher critics. Some called them cowards for staying in the closet, which Harry didn’t think was even fair. He wasn’t scared to come out, he just didn’t want to. There was a definite difference, but he hated being called a coward for not doing something earlier that was completely out of his control. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis helped to comfort him, though. After catching Harry on Twitter multiple times, he actually deleted the app to keep Harry from reading the negative comments and slipping back into the sad headspace he’d been in a couple of times before. Harry didn’t like feeling like that, and Louis hated witnessing Harry like that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was one of the many reasons Harry was happy to be seeing his mum this weekend. Other than that, he was just missing her, a lot. He hadn’t seen her in a while, and he just wanted this weekend to be perfect. Which, he didn’t have any doubt that it would be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door opened, and immediately, he grinned. “Aww, Harry,” his mum cried, reaching up to wrap her arms around him. He smiled, sighing into the hug. “Mum,” he said softly, “I missed you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I missed you too,” she sighed. “You too, Louis,” she added, reaching out to hug her son’s boyfriend. Harry smiled as his mum and boyfriend as they hugged. “It’s so nice to see you both again,” she said. ‘I’m so proud of you both. I saw the posts,” she explained. “I’m so happy for you two.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Harry said, grinning as he stepped over the threshold. He started to remove his coat as he asked, “So, how’ve you been?” Anne chuckled, shaking her head. “Pretty good,” she said. “I’ve been missing you and your sister. I wish you’d come around more often.” Harry sighed. “I’m coming home at Christmas,” he reminded her. ‘I’ll be staying for longer then, too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mum pursed her lips, forming a thin smile. “I just wish I could see you more often,” she said wistfully. “I’m sure your mum feels the same, Louis.” Louis chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, she tells me,” he said. “We’re gonna see her before we leave, and then we’ll spend a weekend at hers… next month, was it?” He asked, turning to Harry, who nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anne sighed. “See, this is the problem,” she said, leading them into the kitchen and sitting down at the table. “I’ve got nothing wrong with you making music, that’s alright. But I wish you weren’t away so often,” she said, pouting a bit. Harry had to repress a laugh at her lip curling up. “Me too, Mum,” he sighed. “Believe me. If there was transportation, I’d be coming home every night after our concerts. But you should be happy to hear that we’ll be having a break in between the album release and tour starting back up,” he added with a grin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her face lit up. “Really?” She asked, smiling. Harry nodded. “Well, you better come and see me,” she chuckled, “then you’ve got no excuse for not visiting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry glanced over at Louis, sharing a look. Harry hadn’t told his mum about the surgeries he’d been planning yet, and if he could figure out the best way to transition (mind the pun) from whatever they were talking about now into those potential surgeries, that’d be great. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Actually, Mum,” Harry started, pursing his lips. “I was thinking you’d have to come to London instead.” Her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, and he facepalmed internally. “I didn’t mean, well, let me try again,” he stammered, taking a breath. “I won’t be able to travel.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Anne asked, her voice hitching. Harry smiled softly, biting his lip nervously before he answered, “Well, I’ve actually been arranging to have those surgeries done. You know, for my transition.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a moment of silence as it sunk in, but his mum’s confused face slowly turned into a bright grin. “Oh!” She cried. “Well, then, of course I’ll come. I’ll be sure to help you,” she added. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Harry said, “although I have got Louis for help, so you shouldn’t have to worry about that. I’ll just be glad to see you,” he added, glancing over at Louis, who sat beside him. Anne smiled. “I want to see you try to stop me from helping out,” she said teasingly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry shook his head, sighing. “Anyways,” Louis said. “We’ve been working a lot recently on the album and such.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah,” Anne said, “I can’t wait for the film. I was so excited to see the last one,” she said. Harry nodded, wincing as he felt a flash of guilt. She had been excited and she would’ve seen it if not for him and his stupid mistakes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis nodded. “Yeah, we’ve been filming for that,” he said, nudging Harry in the side with his elbow. Harry was taken aback, and then it hit him. Louis was trying to remind him of something important he needed to ask. “Actually, Mum,” he said. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind if we had some cameramen over to film for the documentary?” He asked. She looked at him in curiosity as he continued, “It would be like last time, only this time, you’re not going to be given a script. They wanted me to talk a bit on my transition growing up,” he added, “and I think it’s a good idea.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pursed her lips. “Are you sure?” She asked, doubtfully. “I know how hard it was for you to go through that. Are you certain you’re ok with talking about that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shakily, Harry nodded. “I know,” he said, “and I want to. Think about it,” he added, “there’s probably so many kids who could look up to me and see that what they feel is perfectly fine. That would be amazing,” he finished. She smiled. “Ok then,” she said, patting his hand. “As long as you’re fine with it, then I’m fine with it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He grinned. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m actually really excited about it. And they were wanting us to choose a photo to recreate for the music video we’re shooting soon,” he added. She nodded. “We could look through some of the old photo albums,” she suggested. Harry nodded. “I was thinking that maybe we could do the one from my birthday?” He suggested. I don’t know, it just stuck out to me as a really happy memory,” he added, smiling softly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nodded. “Of course,” she said. “I think it’s in one of the boxes in the attic,” she added. “I had Gems help me move some of the old things up there after I refurnished the living room, “ she explained. Harry nodded. “Well, that settles it,” he said. “Tomorrow, we could have them over to film, and we could film going through the boxes. That'd be nice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiled as he looked over at Louis, grinning a soft, knowing smile. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Eleven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry coughed as the attic door opened up, blowing dust down the wooden stairs. He sniffed, looking back at Louis and his mum. One of their cameramen stood behind them, filming the actions. Harry smiled weakly, grasping the sides of the ladder as he hoisted himself up, feeling more dust beneath his fingertips. It had been a while since anybody had been upstairs, clearly. He doubted his mum’s claims that he’d been up there only last month, since the layer of dust seemed to think for just a month to have passed since anybody was last up there. Hopefully the photo albums were safe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He crawled up into the hot space, groping around until he felt his fingers grasp around the beam. He reached upwards until his hand met the light switch, and he flicked it. Suddenly, everything was brightened by the light bulbs hanging from the ceiling, and he looked around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t as bad as he’d first expected it to be, given the dust. Most of the boxes weren’t so heavily coated in the dust, and some of them were completely clean. However, those weren’t the ones he was looking for. He stood up, making sure to be careful when looking up at the ceiling. He’d bumped his head several times before when he’d come up into the attic, looking for something or other. It was one of the curses of being so tall, but he couldn’t say it was the worst thing in the world. It was just annoying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Mum,” he called, glancing down into the brightly lit hallway. Louis was looking up at him as he ascended the ladder, his blue eyes shining brightly. His mum glanced up at Harry. “Yes?” She answered. “Where did you say you put the photobooks?” He asked, looking back over and surveying the attic space. “It should be beside the older boxes,” she said, “it might be a little further back. Sorry,” she added apologetically. He shook his head. “Don’t worry,” he called. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis popped up throughout the opening. “Alright,” he said, trying to get up from the ladder. “So, what exactly are we looking for?” He asked Harry. “A box of photo albums,” Harry explained. “Mum says it’s see through, so we’d be able to tell what it is.” Louis glanced around. “What about those?” He asked, pointed to a couple of cardboard boxes clearly labeled ‘PHOTOS.’ Harry shook his head. “This one’s different,” he explained. “S’ got all my baby photos and school pictures and old things in it. Stuff I didn’t want to see all the time, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis nodded, and Harry walked forward, looking behind a couple of the boxes. He sniffed again, trying as hard as he could not to breathe in the dust. His inhaler was downstairs, but he’d like to avoid having an asthma attack or an allergic reaction. That would be nice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, reaching around the side of one of the boxes, pulling it out into the open so he could see what was inside. Sure enough, there they were: three photo albums, spanning from different years in his laugh. He smiled upon catching sight of the black, leather-bound book on the top of the stack. That was the one he looked at the most, with the photos from his tenth birthday onwards. Some of his favorite memories were held in that photo book, and he felt a bit of excitement at the prospect of getting to show Louis these old photos, and let him see a part of his life that most of his friends had yet to see. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Found it,” he said curtly, picking it up by the sides. Louis grinned, following Harry down the ladder. Harry carefully passed the box over to his mum, and he stepped down the wooden stairs. Louis followed him, stepping gingerly down each rung of the ladder. “Alright,” Harry sighed, grinning as he caught his breath. He helped to fold up the ladder and close the entrance to the attic. He sighed in satisfaction, placing his hands on his hips. “Let’s have a look at these, then,” he said with a slight smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mum set the box down on the coffee table, and the cameraman followed the mother and son and Louis into the living room. The camera was set up on a stand, and he nodded, letting Harry know it was ok to start if they were going to film this for the documentary. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Harry said, cracking open the lid of the box and smiling at the contents. Louis peered over his shoulder. “So, how many pictures do you need for the music video?” Harry’s mum asked, sitting back on the couch. “I dunno,” Harry said softly, reaching down into the box. “A lot.” Her eyebrows raised. “Wow,” she said. “Well, I hope there’s enough.” Harry nodded. “Yeah, me too,” he agreed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis took one of the three photo books into his hands, this one was more of a beige color, kind of in between orange and brow. He opened it up, and Harry glanced over, watching his face light up. “Aww, Haz,” he said. “How old were you here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry looked over at the photo Louis was pointing at, tucked neatly into the first page. He smiled. There was a younger version of himself, grinning up at the camera as his eyes crinkled up, a glimmer of green behind the bright smile. His hair was shorter than it had ever been, his cheeks were chubbier than they were now, but Harry looked happy. “I think that was when I was thirteen,” he remarked, smiling almost identically to the younger Harry in the picture. “You looked sweet,” Louis said, turning the pages randomly. There, Harry with a guitar. There, Harry with his friends. There, Harry on stage, a red bandana tied around his forehead as his fingers gripped a microphone. Harry returned to looking through the box, picking the other two photo books up. He turned through the one at the bottom, and his jaw dropped in surprise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right there, the first page, Harry’s old school picture, when he was about eight. He smiled awkwardly, and right off the bat Harry could tell the happy face he was pulling wasn’t genuine. He was dressed in his old school uniform, his pleated skirt and button up shirt with the cardigan. His hair was long and fell down his shoulders, and his nose was lightly dusted with freckles. His eyes looked dull, and Harry frowned down at the photo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatcha lookin at?” Louis said suddenly, looking over Harry’s shoulder. His eyebrows raised, taking in the photo. “You looked cute,” he said. Harry shrugged, sitting down with the photobook. “I don’t know,” he said. “I wasn’t happy back then,” he added wistfully, sighing. Louis didn’t say anything. He just sat down next to his boyfriend, prepared to listen. Anne looked over her son’s shoulder, clicking her tongue at the sight of the photo. “Haven’t seen that one in a while,” she remarked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me neither,” Harry said. He flipped the page, and there he was again, even younger this time, next to Gemma, drawing at the kitchen table. Gemma smiled; he didn’t. He seemed captivated by the markers in his hand as he drew over the paper. He was almost six in that picture. He sighed again, turning the page one more time. And finally, a happy smile, a real one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was nine at the time. That was probably the worst year of his life, but the smile was real. He remembered the details of this photo vividly. He was wearing a Superman costume. It was a costume borrowed from one of his cousins for Halloween. He remembered specifically asking to dress up as Superman, not any other hero. So there he was, finally happy for one night. He still had his long hair, but the grin was real. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The photo beside it was also the same night, and he was still grinning, almost deliriously. He wore his pants and a darker sweater, and he held his chin in his hands. Harry smiled down at the photo. “Man,” he cried, pursing his lips. His mum smiled, reaching out to look at the photo. “I liked that costume,” she remarked. “I wish we’d have kept it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded, looking up at the box. He rose from his seat, leaning over and reaching into the box. He picked up the wooden box at the very bottom, running his fingers over the lettering. He turned back around, seeing Louis’ puzzled expression. He smiled softly. “These are the things I was talking about,” he explained, opening the box as he sat back down. “Just things I didn’t want to see, but I didn’t want to throw out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis nodded, his breath bated as he reached over, gingerly picking up the first item, a slightly crumpled piece of paper, one of Harry’s drawings. There was a house, there were flowers, and four figures, labeled ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>daddy,’ ‘mummy,’ ‘gem,’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘harry’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>in a child’s scrawled handwriting. Harry pursed his lips. “You always used to call yourself Harry when we dressed up,” Anne recalled. Harry nodded, smiling at the memory. He glanced down at the corner, his mum’s writing displaying who’d drawn the photo. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Darcy,” he chuckled, finger resting on the smudged ink. He glanced up at both Louis and Anne. “I think I know which photo I wanna recreate.” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>any thoughts?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Twelve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <b>Judge’s House, Marbella, Spain, August 2010. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry looked out the window, breathing in the salty air from the ocean breeze, blowing in through the open window. He grinned. He’d never been in a place like this, so beautiful and exquisite. He’d always wanted to go to Spain, and he was thanking his lucky stars that he got to be here, especially after he was nearly kicked off the show to begin with. Simon’s house was definitely one of the most interesting places Harry had ever been. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d been rehearsing with the boys, getting ready for performing in front of Simon. He had to admit, he was terrified. He was so anxious about the potential of them screwing it up, or more specifically, him screwing it up. He’d almost been sent home, and like Simon said, this was their lifeline. They had to get past this stage if they wanted to move forward in the competition. He didn’t want to ruin it for the other boys, especially since they just seemed so excited. Liam had already been here, he was anxious about getting sent home again, Niall was trying to make everyone laugh, Zayn was the calm one in the group, and Louis was dealing with his own things. Honestly, Harry was unsure of his role in the band, and between Liam and Louis vying for leadership and Zayn and Niall joking around, Harry just figured his best option was to keep to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So while the others debated what to do, he looked out the window, breathing in the salty air. The water sparkled in the sunlight, and he grinned. It looked almost like the whole ocean was made of glimmering diamonds, shining blue and green, palm fronds swaying in the wind. Decidedly, Spain was now one of his new favorite places. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Haz,” Louis called, and Harry turned backwards, heart fluttering at the nickname. He winced, remembering that, of course, Louis had a girlfriend. It was just Harry’s luck that the boy he liked didn't like boys. “Whatcha looking at?” He asked Harry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The ocean,” Harry said, “s’ pretty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We should go swimming,” Niall said suddenly, rising quickly from his seat. Liam frowned. “We’re supposed to be practicing,” he reminded them. Louis rolled his eyes. “Ah, piss off, Liam,” he cried. The brown eyed boy glared at Louis, but he stayed quiet. “We can have fun if we want to. Harry, what do you say?” Louis asked, turning once more towards Harry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry hesitated. He felt everyone’s eyes on him. Liam and Louis both seemed to plead with him, and he bit his bottom lip nervously. He didn’t want to let anyone down, but it seemed that in that moment, there was a more popular option. “I think it’d be fun to swim,” he said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great!” Louis said excitedly. Liam sighed. “Fine,” he said, getting up, “let’s go swimming.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry watched Louis grinning as he ran back to his suitcase, unzipping it and opening it up. He grabbed his swim trunks quickly, and then he was gone, running past Niall to get into the bathroom. Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled his own suitcase out, opening it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He went through his clothes, packed by his mum. He found his trunks, he found his swimmer’s sports bra, and then he stopped. With a jolt of fear, he took in a deep breath, rummaging through his clothes. His swim shirt wasn’t there, and he wasn’t about to go swimming in a girl’s top piece without his swim shirt on. He wouldn’t know how to explain that to the boys. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Haz, you ready?” Harry’s head turned around, and he swallowed hard. Everyone was dressed and ready, and clearly, they were all waiting on him. Louis was looking at him with a grin on his face, smiling invitingly. Harry took a shallow breath, and he shook his head. “You guys just go swimming without me,” he said. “I don’t have my suit.” Louis’ eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re holding it, aren’t you?” He asked. Harry glanced down at his fist, and sure enough, it was closed around his blue swim trunks. He swallowed hard. It’s my old one,” he lied, “it’s too small.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, Haz,” Louis pleaded. Harry felt his heart beating against his chest. “Yeah,” Niall said. “I packed an extra, you can borrow it. You’re not that much taller than I am.” Harry shook his head. “Please, just go,” he said, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “I’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis shrugged, and they all turned to go. Harry sighed in relief, turning around to pack up his suit. He really wished he could go out, but he didn’t want to explain it to them yet. He didn’t even know if they would support him, he didn’t know what they thought of it, it was just terrifying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he heard Louis say. Harry jumped, clasping a hand to his chest. “Jesus, Lou,” he cried. “Sorry,” Louis said apologetically, wincing. “Are you ok?” He asked Harry. “Is something wrong?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing’s wrong,” Harry said quickly. Louis arched an eyebrow, watching Harry carefully. “Are you sure?” He asked. “Listen, I’m your friend. You can always come to me if you have a problem. Don’t worry,” he added, arms outstretched, “I’m always gonna be here for you.” Harry nodded, letting Louis wrap his arms around him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” he said softly. He felt his heart beating wildly against his chest as he murmured, “There’s something you should know.” Louis looked at him curiously. “What?” he asked, smiling softly. Harry swallowed hard. “Promise that you won’t tell,” he asked quietly. Louis’ eyes went wide, but he nodded. “I promise,” he said firmly. Harry nodded, taking a step back. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know what transgender means?” He asked Louis. The blue eyed boy’s eyebrows furrowed, lost in thought. “That’s, like, people who aren’t born the right gender, right?” Louis asked, unsure of himself. Harry nodded. “It means that if a boy was born in a girl’s body, they’d still identify as a boy,” he explained simply, breathing harshly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis nodded. “So why- oh,” he said, his eyes widening. “You’re…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry pursed his lips, nodding. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m trans.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” Louis said softly, “wasn’t expecting that.” Harry nodded again, glancing down at his feet. “But that’s fine,” Louis said quickly. “I’m really happy for you. That’s cool, you know.” Harry chuckled. “Thanks,” he said. “Please don’t tell the boys,” he added, his voice pleading. Louis nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I won’t tell anyone. But,” he added, “can you explain to me a little more? I’m sorry, you’re the first person I’ve ever met who’s, well-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Harry said, smiling. “I’d be happy to answer all your questions.” Louis grinned, and they sat down together on the bed, feeling a bit like an interview. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis didn’t go swimming that day. He didn’t go swimming until Harry went down to the shops and bought himself a new swim shirt, and they went in the water together. Harry felt happy, in a sense, the first time he’d told anyone that in years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Present Day. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No alcohol, no smoking, I can’t take my meds,” Harry said, listing off the top of his mind. Louis looked at him, nodding. A week left before his surgery and Harry was trying to remember everything he wasn’t supposed to have. They were reviewing their plan for the surgery. Louis would drive him there and drive him back, and his mum would come into town to help him out as he recovered. Everything was in place, and now he just wanted to make sure he was up to date with the whole plan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will you remember to take pictures?” He asked Louis. “I wanna remember everything.” His boyfriend smiled. “Of course,” Louis said. Harry sighed in contentment, pursing his lips. “Man, I’m so fucking excited,” he said suddenly. “Like, nervous too, but excited. You know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis chuckled. “I can’t say that I do,” he said, “but I get what you’re trying to say.” He wrapped his arms around Harry. “Is there anything you wanna do afterwards?” He asked Harry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry sighed. “We should go traveling,” he said. Louis smiled in amusement. “We are. We’re going touring,” he reminded Harry. The curly haired lad shook his head. “Nah, that doesn’t count,” he said. “We should go somewhere nice. We should take a holiday, and then we wouldn’t have to worry about anything. We could just be happy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis hummed, nuzzling into Harry’s neck. “Where would we go?” He asked. Harry shrugged. “We should go to Spain,” he sighed. Louis smiled. “That would be nice,” he said. “We could go back to Marbella.” Harry smiled widely. “That was pretty,” he remarked. “I miss Marbella. We should go there and stay somewhere beautiful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Agreed,” Louis said, kissing the side of Harry’s neck. “I promise I’ll take you to Marbella someday. When we can catch a break.” Harry nodded sleepily. “That would be nice. We should go all sorts of places,” he said. “Like Malibu, or Jamaica.” Louis chuckled. “That’d be nice,” he agreed. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>any thoughts? thanks for reading Xx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Thirteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Louis leaned against the kitchen counter. “So,” he mused, lifting his cup to his lips as he drank his tea. Harry glanced up from his spot at the kitchen table. Louis sighed, rubbing at his sleepy eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The weeks had flown by. Now, there was just a sense of anxiety from all sides. They were on their break, and they had about twelve hours before Harry’s surgery. They’d been preparing, but nothing made them ready for this overwhelming sense of nervousness. They’d talked with their friends and family, they’d posted a vague tweet about it, just letting people know that Harry was going to have an operation done, but they didn’t give any specific details about it. The fans went into a frenzy, very confused about what was happening, but the boys relented from explaining everything just yet. They had talked about how they might announce it to the fans, but eventually they just decided to take things slow and to see where things were going before they made a final decision. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Harry had said specifically that he definitely wanted to let the fans know eventually. They’d been supportive, and he wanted to let them know what was going on with him, to an extent. There were definitely some things that he’d prefer to keep private, like his and Louis’ relationship, but he was open to letting the fans in on certain aspects of his life. For example, what he’d chosen to be allowed in the documentary was chosen specifically for the fans. There were a couple clips that he’d asked to be left out, and Louis was glad that their team was going to respect Harry’s boundaries. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And now, there they were. Sitting in the kitchen, relaxing before the big day. Louis had to admit, he was surprised at how calm Harry was being. He wasn’t eating (he wasn’t allowed to) and he’d refused a cup of tea, but he seemed calm and cool and collected, not half as anxious as Louis felt. Louis had expected that Harry would be the one who was scared, not him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was a little nervous on Harry’s behalf, just because it was such a big step in his transition. It would be a huge change, and Louis didn’t want anything to go wrong or for Harry to be unsatisfied with the results. Harry had struggled with himself and his body for so many years, and Louis just wished that he’d be able to find confidence in his body after the surgery. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry smiled up at him. “Whatcha thinking about?” He asked, his words slurred slightly. Louis shrugged, smiling. “I dunno,” he said. “How’re you feeling? Do you want anything?” Harry shook his head, sighing slightly. “No, I’m fine,” he answered. “Thank you, though,” he added, “I love you.” Louis beamed at him. “Of course,” he said, walking over to sit beside his boyfriend. “I love you too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Harry said, running his thumb over the back of Louis’ hand while he squeezed his fingers. He paused, his eyebrows furrowing. “You’re tense,” he remarked, looking up at Louis, green eyes meeting blue. “Are you feeling ok?” Louis pursed his lips. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I’m a little anxious, to be honest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He expected Harry to laugh, but he didn’t. Not even a chuckle escaped Harry’s lips. Instead, his warm eyes offered sympathy and understanding. He nodded, beckoning for Louis to explain further. Louis nodded, taking a deep breath. “Well, I’m a little nervous for tomorrow,” he admitted. “I’m just not sure about how I should feel, or if this is normal-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Harry reassured him. Louis sighed, looking straight into Harry’s eyes. “Hey,” Harry said sympathetically, squeezing Louis’ hand. “It’s going to be ok. I’m going to be fine,” he said. “They know what they’re doing, and nothing is going to go wrong. I promise,” he said firmly. “There’s nothing to worry about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis nodded. “I know,” he said, intertwining his fingers with Harry’s. “I’m just a little nervous. It’s normal,” he added quickly. “I just care about you. I love you a lot,” he promised. “I just want you to be happy.” Harry smiled. “I am happy,” he promised. “I’ve never been happier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis grinned, relaxing. “That’s good to hear,” he said. Harry nodded. “Now, you’ve got your tea,” he said. “Why don’t you take a shower? It could help with the nerves,” Harry suggested. He pursed his lips, smirking as he added, “If you want, we could have some fun afterwards.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis chuckled, rising from his chair and walking over to the sink, placing his empty mug onto the bottom of the sink. He glanced over at Harry, a smirk spreading across his lips. “Should I just meet you in the bedroom?” He asked teasingly. Harry winked. “Maybe,” he mused, pursing his lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis laughed, shaking his head as he walked out of the room. He breathed in and out, letting himself relax. Everything was going to be ok. He knew that. Harry knew that. As he walked up the stairs, turning the corner and opening the door to the bathroom, Louis focused on remaining calm and positive. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew that whatever he was feeling, Harry was probably feeling it ten times as much. What Louis needed to do was to remain positive about this whole situation. That way, the feeling would rub off (hopefully) and they’d feel better about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned on the shower, hearing the stream of water pelt the bottom of the glass cubicle. He peeled off his shirt, running his fingers through his hair, which had grown greasy without washing it in the past couple of days. He undid his belt, and let his pants drop to his ankles, and he stepped out of them, and into the warm spray of the shower. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The glass fogged up quickly as the steam billowed upwards, and he sighed, letting the water wash over his skin. He shook his head, letting beads of water fly all over. Soon, he reached for the shampoo, working up a lather with his hand and reaching up to work the soap into his messy hair, rubbing his scalp, massaging it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t even hear the bathroom door open. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All he was focusing on was rinsing the shampoo from his hair, which was why it came as such a shock when the glass door to the shower suddenly opened, and a rush of cold air came in. He stared up at Harry, tentatively stepping in, fully exposed to Louis for the first time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis stared at him, and Harry wordlessly stood in front of him, smiling softly. Louis glanced up and down, taking every detail in. The way water ran down Harry's shoulders, back and legs, gathering in his curls and dripping from his forehead. The soft curve of his breasts, pale and supple. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis didn’t know what to say; every word was gone from his parted lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to,” Harry said sheepishly. Louis nodded. “You look breathtaking,” he said finally. Harry blushed. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ve hated my body for so long. I don’t know, I just never felt right. But I started realizing that I can still love it,” he added, grinning softly, “and I’ve started getting to a better place now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis nodded. His hands twitched, and Harry grasped them, placing them on his shoulders. Wordlessly, Louis leaned in to kiss Harry on the mouth, taking the other boy by surprise. Harry sighed in contentment, closing his eyes as he wrapped his arms around Louis, pulling his boyfriend in closer so that their bodies were touching.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was sensual, it wasn’t sexual in any way. They just held each other, kissing and feeling each other. Louis was in awe of Harry’s own boost of self-confidence, and he was almost moved to tears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d waited so long to see Harry being happy in himself and his body, and this was it. Harry was still shy, but he was confident enough to let Louis caress his breasts and run his fingers down Harry’s sides, resting on his hips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They slept together that night, but Harry didn’t put on a shirt. They were both fully naked, almost drunk in the feeling of being fully exposed to each other for the first time. Louis moved slowly and gently, never going faster than Harry wanted, trying to remember how to make it feel special and brand new, just like their first time, in a hotel in America a year and a half ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But here they were. In their shared home, in London, just like the both of them had dreamed of for years, just loving each other like tomorrow wasn’t going to come. Louis kissed Harry’s curls as they went to bed, making sure to turn the lamp light off and to set the alarm before they drifted off to sleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had an early morning ahead of them. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Fourteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Louis heard the incessant beeping first. Then, he sighed. He reached a hand up to rub away the sleep from his bleary eyes, and then he reached outwards, groping around the surface of the nightstand for the alarm clock. Once he’d secured his slender fingers around the device, he turned it off, putting an end to the annoying sound. He groaned, taking in a deep breath as he sat up in the dark room, pulling the warm blankets away from himself and exposing his lower half to the chilly air. He turned to Harry- who was either truly asleep, or he was desperately trying to go back to sleep. Louis smiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Haz,” he said softly, his voice groggy and overladen with exhaustion. “You’ve gotta get up.” Harry sighed, clutching his pillow tightly and burying his face in it. “I’m tired,” he whined, and Louis’ face softened. He trailed his fingers over Harry’s bare back, watching goosebumps arise underneath the pads of his fingertips. “But you’ve got to,” Louis repeated himself. “We’ve got to go to the hospital, and you’re gonna get your surgery, remember?” Harry shifted beside him, rolling onto his back. His eyes blinked open, a familiar glimmer twinkling in the green of his irises. A soft smile spread across his lips, the corners of his mouth turning upwards into a grin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah,” he said, almost as if he’d just remembered. “That’s fun.” Louis chuckled. “Yeah,” he said, rubbing at Harry’s shoulder. “Are you excited?” he asked. Harry closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “Kinda,” he said. “Maybe I’ll feel a bit more excited once I wake up.” He glanced over at Louis. “Do you think I’d wake up if I have coffee?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis laughed. “No drinking or eating, remember?” He reminded Harry. His boyfriend nodded, groaning. “Damn,” Harry sighed, trying to sit up. “S’ a shame, I’m hungry.” Louis smiled, turning and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His feet touched down on the cold ground, and he said, “Well, afterwards, I’ll get you anything you want to eat.” Harry looked over at him, standing up in just his boxers. “Promise?” He asked wistfully, sounding a bit childish. Louis smiled. “I promise. Now come on,” he said, opening the drawer and pulling out his pants. “We need to go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time Louis had pulled his shirt over his head, he turned, seeing Harry just in a pair of shorts and an oversized T shirt. He wasn’t wearing his binder. Dr. Jackson recommended for Harry to wear comfy clothes on the way there and back. So, Harry tried to find his biggest shirt, which was hard. Nothing was super comfy and big on him, but he managed to find one in the back of his closet that was soft and oversized. Louis had to hold back a laugh, watching Harry practically swimming in such a big shirt. Louis didn’t realize how cute the sight would be, and Harry looked somehow small in the shirt. Louis smirked as Harry turned to him, wrapping his hair up and pulling it into a bun. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ready?” Louis asked. Harry smiled. “Yeah,” he said, yawning. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’re you feeling, Harry?” Dr. Jackson asked him. Louis watched as Harry unlaced the back of his hospital, letting it fall down, exposing his chest. Louis had never been asked to be in the room before, but he knew that this would be necessary for the surgery. Dr. Jackson needed to mark over Harry’s chest with his pen, almost like instructions for the doctors working on Harry’s chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m doing pretty good,” Harry said, grinning over at Louis. He looked so happy. Louis flashed him a thumbs up. “That’s always good,” Dr. Jackson murmured, taking his marker and uncapping it. He held it up in front of Harry’s chest, bringing it forward and tapping it just under Harry’s collarbone in the center of his chest. A small, round mark appeared beneath the tip of the marker, and the doctor kept making these circular markings, all the way down to the bottom of Harry’s sternum. “These are orientation markings, if you were wondering,” he explained to Harry and Louis. “We won’t be making incisions here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded as the doctor reached out a gloved hand to cup one of his breasts, holding it up as he drew a flat line beneath it. Dr. Jackson did the same with the other. He also drew little cross markings at the inert ends of the lines. Louis’ eyebrows furrowed as he watched curiously. He held the video camera to the side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry had asked him to film tiny bits of it, but Louis wasn’t sure that this was something Harry would want. Knowing his boyfriend, Louis decided to just stop filming for a couple minutes as the doctor made the incision markings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Jackson drew little vertical lines around the breasts, detailing where the tissue was. Harry sat quietly, watching with curious eyes. Louis was wondering what Harry was thinking at that moment, knowing that everything that Harry had wanted, everything that he’d dreamed of, was finally happening, and in just a few hours, Harry’s chest would look like he’d always described he’d wanted it to look like. Louis smiled softly to himself, watching as Dr. Jackson finished marking around Harry’s chest and Harry pulled his hospital gown back up. Louis walked over, helping Harry to lace up the back of his gown. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I’ll be back in a minute to help you with your IV,” the doctor said with a smile, picking up his notes and walking out of the room. The air was silent in the room for a minute as Louis held his breath. Slowly, he walked around the chair Harry was sitting in, drawing his attention and locking eyes with him. Louis smiled softly. “So,” he said quietly. “What’s the one thing you want to do after everything?” Harry smiled, thinking as he glanced up at the ceiling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think I’d want to see it,” he said, lifting his collar so he could look down at his chest. Louis chuckled, grinning. “I wish I didn’t have to wear bandages afterwards,” Harry sighed wistfully. “I just want to feel… things, without a binder on,” he explained. “What’s it like to have a shirt against your chest?” He asked. Louis furrowed his eyebrows together, realizing something he never had before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t really know,” Louis admitted. “I’ve never thought about that. It’s just like, fabric, against your skin, I guess,” he said, trying his best to describe it. Harry nodded, glancing down at his lap. “I’m sorry I can’t describe it better,” Louis said apologetically. Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t worry,” he reassured Louis. “I’ll figure it out for myself soon enough.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis grinned. He pursed his lips. “Do you want me to film a bit?” He asked, holding up the camera. Harry smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s cool.” Louis nodded, taking a step back and turning the camera on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” he said, pointing the camera towards Harry, who smiled at the lens. “It’s currently ten o’clock,” Louis added, glancing down at his watch. “How are you feeling, Harry?” He asked, almost like it was an interview. Harry smiled brightly and genuinely and he blushed. “Pretty excited,” he said, grinning as he flashed his toothy smile. Louis smiled behind the camera. “M’ really happy for you,” he said softly, making Harry’s cheek grow an even deeper shade of pink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just then, they heard the door open, and Dr. Jackson walked backed in with the IV stand. He smiled at Louis. “Ah, you’re filming,’ he said calmly, turning his attention to Harry. The curly haired boy held out his forearm, letting the doctor wrap an elastic band around it, helping to insert the needle. “Is this a home video, or…” He trailed off, letting the boys answer. “No,” Harry answered, chuckling. “We’re making a movie for our band, so we decided to film bits of this for that.” The doctor nodded. “That’s a lovely idea,” he murmured, inserting the IV. “Well, Harry, are you ready to go back with me?” He asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry took a deep breath, looking over towards Louis. He nodded, relaxing his shoulders. The doctor smiled, handing him a cap to cover his curls. Harry placed it over his head, helping to gather his long hair and stuff it into the mesh cap. Louis smiled, feeling his heart beating as he documented the process. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry stood up, already blinking as he relaxed more and more. Louis walked over, putting the camera down at an angle as he hugged Harry, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll be here,” he promised. “I’ll wait for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry blushed, kissing Louis one more time as he walked off with Dr. Jackson, heading to the surgical suite. Louis sighed, picking up the camera. To his surprise, it recorded the hug, and he chuckled, grinning as he played it back and watched him and Harry kiss. He turned the camera onto himself, making sure to record. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Hey Haz,” he said, grinning down at the lens. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
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  <br/>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm sorry that the update took longer than I meant, but I wanted to be sure that everything i'm writing is somewhat accurate. I always do my research going into writing books like these, and please, don't ever feel afraid to call me out on my mistakes. I'm constantly growing and learning, and I want to learn from any mistake I've made. </p><p>Thank you so much for reading Xx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Fifteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so sorry for the super long wait!! I was going through a creative block with this book, and I can't guarantee that I'll be consistently updating from here on out, but as it comes to a close I can promise to see this book to the end.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A couple hours went by. Louis tried to wait patiently, but he had to admit, sitting around made him antsy. Louis hated hospitals. He’d hated hospitals for about a year, ever since Harry tried to commit, and being here without Harry to squeeze his hand made the feeling so much worse. He just wanted to know what was happening with Harry, and if he’d be ok, and if he was going to be in pain afterwards. Louis hated the idea of Harry being in pain, he didn’t want that at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luckily for him, the surgery seemed to be going by quickly, or at least ok. A couple nurses had checked in with Louis, giving him updates every so often. Louis knew Harry would be ok. He could feel it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d also been talking with people. In and out of phone calls, he’d talked with each of the boys at least once. He’d talked with Anne for a little bit, and that was nice. She wished she could come to see him. She tried to book a flight, even. But it was fine, because she’d be here soon, and Harry would be out of surgery, and they’d be happy. That was the dream. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Louis had spent a good amount of time talking to a camera lense. He’d also texted the boys too, he wanted them to get in on this as well. If everything went according to plan, Harry was definitely in for a nice surprise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He held a cup of coffee in one hand while the other sat in his lap as he blinked himself back awake. They’d gotten up early, and he was certain that Harry was not going to be the only one who needed a nap after they’d get home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Louis,” He heard a voice say. Louis sat up quickly, spilling a tiny bit of coffee over his fingers as he did so. He hissed at the burn, cursing underneath his breath. He placed the paper cup on the table beside him, shaking his hand as he stood up, facing Dr. Jackson. The doctor smiled, his surgical mask stuffed into the pocket of his scrubs. “Hey,” Louis said, smiling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought you’d love to know that Harry’s awake, he’s been moved to his recovery room,” The doctor explained. Louis grinned, nodding. “Thank you so much,” he said. “You have no idea how much this means to him- and me, too,” he added, wondering how happy Harry would be in his recovery room, just down the hall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dr. Jackson smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy,” he said softly. “I’ve been doing this for years- nobody has just woken up the way he did. He smiled instantly. Most of my patients take a little longer to realize what’s going on, but he just looked happy the instant he came off of anesthesia. I can’t explain what was going on in his mind, but he’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him,” he finished. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis grinned, feeling his heart beating against his chest. “I love to hear that,” He said breathlessly. “Can I see him yet?” The doctor nodded. “He’s waiting for you,” he said with a smile. Louis couldn’t even contain his grin- “thank you so much,” he said quickly, his feet already carrying down the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The walk was short, but Louis couldn’t help but think of everything that had led to this very moment. Meeting Harry, Harry coming out, Louis coming out three years later, kissing him for the first time, even the last time Louis was walking down the hallway of a hospital under drastically different circumstances. But this time, the fear was gone, and he was just happy for his boyfriend as he walked up to the doorway, peering in and seeing Harry lying on the bed, eyes half-open. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, love,” Louis murmured, smiling while he leaned against the doorway. Harry looked over at him, grinning like an idiot. “Lou,” he said softly. His eyes were teary, but he was smiling so brightly and so genuinely that Louis couldn’t believe these tears were anything but happy. He walked over to Harry, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed as he leaned over his boyfriend, kissing the top of his head. Harry continued to smile, his curls splayed wildly over the pillow his head rested on. His hospital gown wasn’t fully closed, part of it pulled away to expose Harry’s shoulders, and Louis could see the bandages wrapped tightly around his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does it hurt?” He asked. Harry winced, glancing down at the bandages himself. “A little,” he said. “But it feels flat… that’s a little weird,” he chuckled. “I forgot what that felt like.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Louis said. “You look a little worn. Do you need me to get you anything? Water, maybe?” He asked, reaching for Harry’s cheek as he wiped away a tear with his thumb. Harry laughed suddenly. “I’m crying?” He asked, reaching up with his hands to touch his own face. “Oh, yeah,” he laughed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis pursed his lips, holding back a laugh. “I bet I look like a mess right about now,” Harry said. Louis shook his head. “No,” he said softly. “You look beautiful.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry smiled. “I’ve got little drains,” he murmured, pulling his gown even further down. Louis watched as more bandages were revealed, as well as a couple tubes that were used to drain the incisions made in his chest. They were already filling a tiny bit with a reddish liquid, and Louis winced. Harry noticed, and he smiled. “Don’t worry about me,” he sighed. “I’ll be fine. This is normal, right? It’s like any other surgery. I’ll recover, so don’t worry,” he said, squeezing Louis’ hand. Louis squeezed Harry’s hand back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you will,” Louis said softly. “I’m so happy for you.” Harry smiled. “I know,” he said. “I’m happy for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis laughed. “You’re a little goofy right now, huh?” He asked, pushing a curl out of Harry’s eyes. Harry shrugged. “Things are a little funny,” he said. “I think it’s the medicine they gave me; it’s making my tummy feel a bit funny.” Louis frowned. “Should I get a nurse? Is that supposed to happen?” He asked, concerned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shook his head. “S’ just the side effects, don’t worry about it,” He slurred, leaning back into the pillow. “M’ tired.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I bet,” Louis chuckled, running his fingers through Harry’s curls. God, they were so long now. “You got up really early. Do you think you wanna sleep a little bit before the doctor discharges you?” Harry hummed, sighing. “Maybe,” he murmured. “Seems like a good idea, innit?” Louis nodded, smiling. “You’ve got your blankets,” he said softly, pulling them up around Harry, tucking the soft blankets around his thin frame. “I can get you a little water, if you wanted.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lou?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you sing to me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis blushed, smiling down at Harry, who looked up at him with curious green eyes. “Of course, love,” he murmured. “Anything you want?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The one you wrote,” Harry muttered, leaning into Louis’ hand, his fingers caressing Harry’s cheek and getting tangled in his chocolate curls. Louis smiled, knowing exactly which one Harry was talking about. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You tell me that you’re sad and lost your way, </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You tell me that your tears are here to stay. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But I know you’re only hiding, </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I just wanna see you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You tell me that you’re hurt and you're in pain, </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I can see your head is hung in shame.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But I just wanna see you smile again, </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span> See you smile again. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But don’t burn out, </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>even if you scream and shout </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’ll come back to you and I’ll be here for you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, I will carry you over</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fire and water for your love.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I will hold you closer</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hope your heart is strong enough;</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When the night is coming down on you,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We will find a way through the dark.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And you don't need,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You don't need to worry.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And you will see it's easy to be loved;</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I know you wanna be loved.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, I will carry you over</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fire and water for your love.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, I will carry you over</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fire and water for your love.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I will hold you closer,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hope your heart is strong enough.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When the night is coming down on you,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We will find a way through the dark;</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, I will carry you over</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fire and water for your love.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And I will hold you closer,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hope your heart is strong enough.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When the night is coming down,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We will find a way through the dark,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Louis finished with a whisper, leaning over and pressing his lips to Harry’s forehead. He listened to the boy’s soft snores, wondering how on earth he was lucky enough to be the one beside him, getting to hold his hand and stay by his side during something that gave him one of the biggest smiles Louis had ever seen. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW// migraines, vomiting</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It really, really sucked to be in pain. And Harry couldn’t even do anything about it, really. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was home. He’d been home for two days, almost right after the doctors told him he could leave, about three hours after his surgery. Everything was so tight, it made him want to throw up, and the huge headache he had did not help at all. And he wanted to take the bandages off so bad, they were digging into his skin, but he couldn’t- he wasn’t allowed to on his own, because that could cause an infection. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he’d been on his pain meds after the surgery, it was more bearable, but he was tired, sick, and hurting, and he could barely get any sleep. Louis didn’t try and make him get up out of bed, he knew how much he was hurting, but it was a lot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His mum was there, she’d arrived yesterday. She was so helpful, complimenting him and telling him how proud of him she was, and offering to make him a cup of tea at every turn, but no amount of cups of tea or forehead kisses she or Louis were ready to give Harry would make the pain go away now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew it would go away eventually, but he wanted it gone now, not eventually. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was so much worse than a binder, and he hated it so much. The only times he got to escape the pain was when he fell asleep, and it would be so nice if he could just get a few more hours of sleep each night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you need anything, darling?” Anne said softly, looking over at Harry, sitting at the end of the kitchen table. He was wearing his loosest, most comfortable shirt, and his hand was holding his forehead, pinching the skin like it would make the pain disappear. He glanced up, looking at her with tired eyes. “Tea?” She offered. He nodded. “That would be nice,” he mumbled, not out of spite but just because he was so, so tired. And she understood that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She watched him with her twinkling eyes, the wrinkles around them as she smiled with dimples that matched his. She was happy, and so was he,  he was just bearing the physical and emotional pain he’d experienced over twenty years, boiled down into one week. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was weird, on top of everything else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry had known that he wanted to have surgery, obviously, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone through with it, but it felt, well, anticlimactic. Everyone around him treated it like it would be this huge, life changing experience that would cure his dysphoria, but really, he didn’t feel much different than he had three days ago. He just knew that he didn’t have a feminine-presenting chest anymore, but he had no idea what it looked like underneath all the bandages, but he knew to anticipate scars, and that scared him- he wanted it to look normal, and he wanted the scars to fade, but what if they didn’t?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he still felt normal, mentally. Compared to a year ago, he was doing amazing, but it wasn’t like he was suddenly cured of everything. He still saw his body, he still had those memories and the photos and the stories, and his family still slipped up sometimes and accidentally called him the wrong name ten years in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kept those thoughts to himself, though. He didn’t want to know what Louis or his mum might think if they knew he was thinking that way again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anne walked around Harry and Louis’ kitchen, busying herself with making the tea. She’d learned where they kept their mugs, which was helpful. She’d stayed with them when they’d first moved in together, but they’d moved things around since those first few weeks, so their cups and their furniture were all in different places than she’d remembered. However, Louis was there to help her, and Harry, when he had the energy to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She set a red mug in front of Harry, filled with steaming tea. He looked up, nodding, as if to say ‘thank you’ without words. She understood, smiling as she sat down beside him. “Are you feeling any better?” She asked, and he shook his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“S’ just this damn migraine,” he said, tears brimming his eyes. He was so exhausted. She looked at him sympathetically, reaching over to squeeze his wrist. One hand was holding his head, and the other was closed around the red mug of tea, so she held his wrist in comfort instead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, love,” she sighed. “I wish I could take your pain away.” He wished that too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis came in, looking upon the scene: a mother comforting her son, whose green eyes were practically filled with tears. He sat down beside them, rubbing Harry’s back. “Hey,” he said softly, and he didn’t even bother to ask how Harry was doing. He could tell. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry smiled weakly, his lips pressed together firmly. Louis didn’t stop moving his hand, rubbing comforting circles into Harry’s back, and Harry didn’t want him too. It felt good. It made him feel less alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Niall’s coming over today,” Louis reminded him, “he’s said he’s going to bring you a present- I don’t know what that’s meant to be, but he hinted that it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘good.’” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry laughed through his tears. “God,” he said, glancing up as he wiped his eyes. “We should have them all over. For dinner. That’d be nice,” he added, smiling more genuinely this time.” Louis nodded. “Would you like that?” He asked, and Harry nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll mention it,” he promised. Harry nodded again, holding the red mug up to his lips. It was good tea. He’d missed his mother’s tea. There was just something about the way she made it that he couldn’t describe, but it reminded him of home. It reminded him of nights she held him in her arms as a child while he cried because he didn’t have the words to explain how he felt; it reminded him of birthdays and Christmas. He always bought the same brand, but he was never able to replicate the way his mother could make tea. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, Niall’s coming over,” Anne echoed Louis. “Is he staying for dinner? I could fix something.” Louis nodded, smiling. “That’s kind of you,” he said, and she waved him off, grinning back at him. “Don’t you worry about it. S’ the least I can do,” she said graciously. “So, what could I make?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anything,” Louis answered honestly, and Harry laughed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anne smiled, and Louis turned back to Harry, who was sipping at his tea again. “Do you wanna do anything before Niall gets here?” He asked, reaching up to run his fingers through Harry’s hair. Harry cringed, knowing full well that he hadn’t showered in the past two days, not since he and Louis had showered together. His hair was greasy and in desperate need of shampoo.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I should shower,” Harry said. His doctor said it was perfectly ok, he would just need to redress the bandages afterwards, which was probably a good thing- he needed to clean his drains too. Louis had offered to help, although they were both squeamish about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Louis nodded. “Doesn’t seem like a bad idea,” he murmured. “Do you wanna do that, and I’ll help your mum?” Harry nodded, rising from the table. Louis watched him leave the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His head throbbed with every step he took towards his and Louis’ bedroom, and he could feel bile rising in his throat once he entered the bathroom. He gagged as he fell forward, leaning over the porcelain bowl of the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, holding back his curls, and he looked back, met with sympathetic blue eyes. Louis rubbed his shoulder, murmuring sweet nothings as Harry sobbed over the toilet bowl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mon,” Louis muttered, reaching for the shower faucet “let’s get you in the shower.” Harry shook his head, whimpering, but Louis helped him up. He helped him undress and enter the shower, holding him under the spray and rinsing his hair, and Louis helped him clean his drains and wrap more bandages, as tight as they were.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t until Harry was sitting on their bed, a towel around his shoulders, that his head began to ease up. Louis was brushing a comb through his wet curls, humming a song that Harry didn’t know the words to. All the same, it was a small comfort. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Halloween!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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